


Pull Me Under

by Gryffindancer



Category: DC Extended Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Crossover, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Rare Pairings, Smut, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25030636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryffindancer/pseuds/Gryffindancer
Summary: Darcy Lewis had encountered her fair share of ridiculous situations. It came with the territory as her father was an eccentric billionaire and inventor, turned vigilante. But all things considered, Darcy was fairly certain that this was the most ridiculous situation she’d ever encountered thanks to her relationship with her dad.And that wasbeforeher soulmate showed up.
Relationships: Arthur Curry/Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis & Tony Stark
Comments: 161
Kudos: 364





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You guys! I’m back! I’m so sorry for the, like, two-year-long hiatus I took without writing or posting anything. My reasons are simply that my job requires a truly insane amount of creative energy from me, like every-day-all-the-time-forever, and leaves virtually none leftover for writing and other creative outlets. I love love love my job, but I’ve missed having the time and energy for writing, and I’ve missed all of you incredible folx.
> 
> Alright, buckle up. Y’all know how much I love a good rare pair. And here is one of the (unfortunately) rarest of pairs. We’re crossing comic universes here. Don’t hate me. As far as I’m aware AO3 only has two other fics with this pairing, which I think is a damn shame, especially considering that there are dozens of fics featuring Darcy and other DC characters. But after a semi-recent viewing of Aquaman, this just popped into my head and I couldn't get it out. Meant for it to be a one-shot, and now I'm approaching 10,000 words so far. Lol, oops.
> 
> Also, completely unbeta'd because we're all just livin' on the edge these days. Here we go, my dears.

Darcy Lewis had encountered her fair share of ridiculous situations. It came with the territory as her father was an eccentric billionaire and inventor, turned vigilante.

There was the time when for her fifth birthday, her mom had planned a small backyard party for Darcy and a few of her friends until her dad called to let them know that he had rented out the entire Hollywood Bowl and flew The Wiggles in from Australia to perform for her and her whole kindergarten class. Her mom was pissed. 

There was the time when to celebrate her eighth-grade graduation, he took her backstage at a Slash concert, then proceeded to get drunk and pass out in Slash’s dressing room, leaving Darcy to have to call her dad’s car service and security to come collect them at the stage door. Her mom was pissed about that too. 

There was the time when her dad bought her a Porsche, a Ferrari, and Lamborghini for Christmas when she was sixteen because “he couldn’t decide which one to get her.” Darcy really knew though, that it was because it was their first Christmas together after her mom died and he didn’t know what else to do. Eventually, she made him sell all three and donate the proceeds to a cancer foundation in her mom’s name.

And then there was the time when he got kidnapped in Afghanistan, invented a flying weaponized suit, and decided to become a superhero. Following that fun development, of course, there were dozens of exponentially crazy situations that arose in the subsequent years.

But all things considered, Darcy was fairly certain that so far this was the most ridiculous situation she’d ever encountered thanks to her relationship with her dad.

She supposed some part of her knew that it was a mistake to cut down that long alley coming back from picking up the Saturday morning Starbucks for her and her dad. But the street she normally went down was blocked off for construction, and on the opposite side of the Starbucks a taxi had just sideswiped an MTA bus and the sidewalk was packed with voyeurs (the taxi driver and bus driver were now cursing each other out colorfully, creating quite a scene). So it was either take the alley or cut all the way around the hold-ups on either side -- a detour that would take her at least 4 blocks and 20 minutes out of her way. She realized later (when the douchebags who grabbed her let slip the fact that she’d been taken to get Tony’s attention) that at least one of those hold-ups was probably a set up by whoever was trying to nab her. 

The guy in charge here was apparently a former SI employee who had been fired for, as he put it, “dreaming too big.” Darcy felt it safe to assume that _“dreaming too big”_ was code for _“actually a sadistic psychopath,”_ because here she was, in a giant glass box, shackled to a set of chains that were bolted to the floor. And as the maniacal ass (she’d already forgotten his name, these kinds of psychos were a dime a dozen in her father’s world) had just explained, the chains were just shorter than the height of the box. Which, if she was being totally honest, made the water that was now pouring into the box a fairly concerning issue.

She calculated it as best she could. Tony would realize that she was missing after at least an hour, and it would take probably two hours for them to create a field plan and track down her location. After just the first incident of this sort, Tony had implanted a GPS tracker in a charm that hung on a delicate vibranium chain around her wrist. He’d initially wanted to stick her with a security detail, but after her vehement dissent to that plan, the bracelet was their compromise. She’d done a rough estimate of how long it had been since they had managed to grab her, and if she was correct Tony and the others would be getting there sometime in the next half hour or so. Darcy hoped she had that long.

She counted out a minute while marking how high the water rose -- from barely covering the entire floor of the box to lapping at the tops of her ankles. 

Any minute now, they would show up. The water had risen to her belly button.

Really, any moment now, her dad would be busting through the ceiling, she thought as the water brushed against her collar bones.

Any second, and they’d be getting her out of this mess. Just like every other bind she’d been in thanks to her dad. She was treading water now, which was a little tricky to do with her hands cuffed in front of her, but there was still some slack in the chains. 

She couldn’t reach the bottom anymore without being completely submerged, and she was afraid if she pulled any harder on the chains, she would dislocate her wrists. Darcy stretched her neck up as far as she could, and gasped one last breath before the water engulfed her nose and mouth. She knew her dad would find her. He always did. 

The last thing she felt before losing consciousness was a gentle jolt as if something large had just fallen into and displaced the water beside her.

Darcy woke up, sinuses and throat burning, heavy pressure on her chest. She felt the pressure ease up as she twisted her shoulders and leaned her head to the side, coughing violently to expel what felt like a gallon of water from her lungs.

“There you go,” she heard a rumbling voice tell her. “Shit, your dad has some crazy fuckin’ enemies.”

The second she got her breathing under control, she whipped her head back, blinking hard when her head swam and went fuzzy for a moment at the movement.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” she whispered. And as she did, she saw the man’s face in front of her freeze, dark eyebrows shooting to the sky. That was her soulmate. _That_ was her soulmate. **That** was her soulmate. Holy shit.

The man (oh man, oh man, oh man) in front of her was gorgeous. Scruffy beard, tattooed skin, wild golden-tipped curls, and muscles on muscles, all dripping wet. She suddenly felt hyper-aware of her physical state and the fact that she’d thrown on the _worst_ clothing to be rescued by her gorgeous, probably-out-of-her-league soulmate to go get coffee that morning. -- a ratty t-shirt of Tony’s that she’d stolen at some point, old-ass leggings with the hole in the knee, and she probably had mascara smudged all down her face from the impromptu swim sesh. 

Their staring contest was interrupted by the sound of repulsors somewhere close by. 

“Darcy!” she heard her dad’s voice shout. 

She pushed her way up to a sitting position, the man helped her with a hand behind her back, which she appreciated as she began to feel how sore and fatigued her muscles were as her adrenaline wore off. She was probably in some mild shock too. 

“Dad! I’m here!” she shouted, even as she heard the heavy sound of his armored footsteps draw near. 

“She’s okay!” The man added.

In the next second, Tony was bursting through the door, Nat hot on his heels.

Tony crossed to her, removed his faceplate, and knelt beside her, “You okay, Princess?” She nodded and he sighed in relief. “It was our routine.”

“I know,” she jumped in, “We got cocky. Heaven forbid we have cute rituals, like father-daughter coffee dates on Saturday mornings.”

“We can send a minion from now on.”

Nat pushed in beside her. “Hey котик, you know better than to keep a regular routine like that.” Her tone was admonishing, but the use of the pet name let Darcy in on her relief. The redhead began checking Darcy’s pupil response and placed her fingers on Darcy’s bruised wrist to start counting her pulse.

“This is your fault, you know,” Darcy accused Tony.

“I know, I know,” he conceded, hands up, “I’m fully aware of what a selfish idiot I am. You didn’t sign up for this.”

“No, I didn’t.” It hung there heavy for a second even as Nat began picking the lock on her shackles. 

“Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt this lovely moment,” the man was still kneeling there too, and Darcy tried not to stare at the way his soaked white henley clung to the dips and valleys of his body. “But we should be going.”

“True,” Tony agreed. He held out a hand to help her up, but as soon as she was upright, her head got all swimmy again and she leaned heavily into his shoulder. Tony used that as a cue to scoop her up into his arms.

“Dad, I’m fine.” Darcy insisted, but Tony refused to let her back down and kept walking, unphased. Nat cut in front of them to take point and the other man fell in behind them.

“You might be fine, but your knees seemed to disagree just then.”

Darcy sighed, but let herself settle slightly against his chest plate when she suddenly remembered the other thing of importance that had just taken place.

“Oh yeah. Hey dad, meet my soulmate. Wait,” she looked back at him, “hang on, we didn’t do names.”

His eyebrows wrinkled as he smirked, “Arthur.” 

“Arthur,” Darcy parroted. Then it dawned on her, “Oh, shit! You’re the guy who works with Bruce Wayne.”

“That would be me.”

“Hold on!” Tony was shaking his head as if to rewind the conversation. “When did this happen!?”

“When we met?” Darcy lifted an eyebrow and glanced at Arthur who chuckled quietly to himself.

“Yeah, I get that part,” Tony huffed, rolling his eyes. “But how the hell is it only coming up now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "котик" is Russian for "Kitten."
> 
> Hoping to update about once a week. We'll see how that goes, lol.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly meant for this to be a one-shot. Then it started growing and I figured it would end up being a cute little 2 or 3 chapter thing. Now I’ve got nearly 14,000 words written and it’s still growing… I mean, I’m not mad about it.
> 
> Still completely unbeta’d because murder hornets exist and Kanye’s running for president now, so what even are standards anymore?

When Darcy awoke the next time, it was in her own bed in her own apartment in Stark Tower. The angle of the sun streaming through the blinds indicated that it was probably late afternoon, and she was still wearing her clothes from earlier, though she knew that she had already dried out on the way back. She must have fallen asleep at some point, and someone (probably her dad) had carried her back to her place. Darcy rolled over and sat up gingerly. The bruises on her wrists were just starting to bloom a deep purple color and she made a mental note to apply some arnica on them later before they got too bad. Her muscles were even achier than before, and her head was still a little rushy -- some latent side effects of the mild oxygen deprivation for sure. She noticed a glass of water and two Tylenol sitting on her bedside table beside her phone with a note in Nat’s handwriting.

_Hydrate, котик. You’ll feel better._

Darcy chased the pills down with the entire glass of water, then managed to crawl out of bed despite the stiffness in her muscles. A hot shower was definitely first on the to-do list. She made her way into the bathroom, shedding her clothes along the way, but paused when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She’d always been rather fond of her soul words. They twisted around the left side of her ribcage, just beneath where the band of a bra would lay. 

_“There you go. Shit, your dad has some crazy fuckin’ enemies.”_

Even though they had hinted at a bad situation, she couldn’t help the warmth that spread through her chest every time she looked at them. Almost as if she could already feel the affection that would blossom from the bond, but she had always assumed that was somewhat psychosomatic. 

They had been a balm in difficult times. To know that there was someone out there that the universe had matched her with was something that helped get her through her lowest moments. Despite the struggles she was facing, this one person at least could still be there for her, even if she didn’t know them yet. 

Although, soul bonds weren’t a foolproof measure of compatibility. A person’s social conditioning could still make them a toxic partner for anyone, regardless of the biological urge to be with them. There were still divorces and terrible cases of domestic violence even amongst soulmates, proof that biology and environmental conditioning were two very different things.

The words themselves simply looked like a birthmark of rolling handwriting. They didn’t look any different today than they had ever looked despite everything feeling so much more significant. Darcy turned on the water and stepped under the spray.

She blew out a sigh of relief as soon as the just-shy-of-scalding water was tumbling across her exhausted body. She took her time washing and conditioning her hair, exfoliating her skin, and shaving. When she finally turned the faucet off, the mirrors were thoroughly fogged up and the air was thick with steam, but she felt like a new person. After drying off, she threw on a pair of leggings, an old Culver sweatshirt, and pulled her damp hair up into a messy bun. 

“FRIDAY, is my dad in his workshop?”

“He is, Miss Darcy,” the Irish accented AI replied.

Darcy thanked FRIDAY, then left her place to search him out. 

They hadn’t always been so close. Her parents had separated before her first birthday, but they did their best to keep things cordial (which was easier said than done when Tony’s every move seemed to test the limits of her mom’s patience). When she was younger she had lived with her mom, and while she had plenty of contact with her dad, he acted more like a fun and reckless uncle figure than a responsible father. It wasn’t until her mom’s diagnosis and subsequent death that he started to step up and Darcy was able to trust him and rely on him for anything resembling parental guidance. 

Even then, there was a lot of mutual learning and growth in their relationship, which was significantly helped once Tony finally met his soulmate. Pepper was a grounding force for Tony, and Darcy appreciated the way that she had never tried to jump in and replace her mother, but instead let their relationship bloom organically. 

Darcy hopped off the elevator but hesitated in front of the glass doors to Tony’s workshop. It’s not like she’d assumed he’d be alone, but she certainly didn’t expect so many people to be in there with him. Nor did she expect to encounter her soulmate again so soon, but there he was sitting on the edge of a work table, chatting with Bucky, Steve, and Sam, while her dad tinkered with something behind them. Taking a steadying breath, she pressed her palm to the digital pad beside the door, which granted her access with a quiet _beep_ and the doors slid open. 

At the sound, everyone present glanced her way, and Darcy hated the heat that automatically rose in her cheeks.

“Darcy!” Steve greeted from across the room.

“Hey doll,” Bucky smiled as she got closer. “Glad to see you’re okay after this morning.”

Sam chuckled, “Yeah, I gotta say that’s a pretty shitty way to start the day.”

“Well, I can't say I loved it,” she shrugged.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arthur quipped, sarcasm dancing behind the icy blue of his eyes. “I had a great time.”

“Ha. Ha.” Darcy deadpanned but then changed her tone to something more inquiring. “I have to admit, I was a little surprised that you came along for the reconn. You’re not part of the usual lineup.”

Arthur shifted his weight on the table where he sat, leaning toward her and propping one large hand against his thigh for support. “Well, I’ve been planning to meet with your pops about upgrading my armor for a while. We’ve got some experimental shit to work on the next few weeks until I have to head back to Gotham. But I was here already.” He shrugged, “Figured I better start earning my keep. Besides, it took me a few minutes to get you unchained in that box, so it probably helps that I can breathe underwater.”

Darcy tried her best not to be affected by the way he was staring at her, “I mean, Nat could definitely hold her breath at least that long.”

“You know what,” he sat back again, “I believe that.”

“Hey Princess,” Tony said, finally surfacing from his work and flipping his protective goggles up onto his forehead. “When did you get here?”

“Eh, like an hour ago.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“No,” she laughed. “I got here like two minutes ago. You weren’t _that_ zoned out, don’t worry.” The other men were noticeably amused by their back and forth.

Tony pointed at them accusingly, “Hey, laugh it up while you can, but remember who’s building all your armor and weapons. Speaking of which...” he held up what looked like a reinforced chest plate.

“Ready to test it, already?” Arthur asked and hopped off of the table. 

“Yep. Who’s doing the shooting here? Svedka? Birdman? Rocket pop?” Tony asked, glancing at Bucky, Sam, and Steve respectively. 

“I can do it,” Bucky volunteered as he pulled a Glock from the waistband of his jeans.

“Whoa, dude.” Sam took a step back. “You just had that on you this whole time?” 

“Yeah?”

Steve shook his head at them both, “You’re gonna hate when I tell you how many knives he’s carrying on him right now.”

“Okay,” Arthur jumped in as he strapped the chest plate on over his shirt. “I work with a dude who literally fights crime dressed as a bat, but you guys are truly scary.”

“You don’t even know the half of it yet,” Darcy assured him. 

Tony gestured to the far side of his workshop, where there was a range set up with a clear tempered safety barrier that Darcy knew he used for testing weapons. “Alright, Aquadude. Step into the shooting gallery here and if you don’t die you win a teddy bear.”

“Fair deal,” Arthur shrugged, then took his place. Darcy, Steve, and Sam stood on the opposite side of the barrier, but Tony flipped his goggles down again and stood just behind Bucky who was lining up to take his shot.

Darcy didn’t expect the reaction she had next. Despite the full knowledge that Arthur was practically indestructible by something like a regular old bullet (even without the armored chest plate), the moment Bucky squeezed the trigger she felt her stomach jump into her throat and she flinched forward, hands pressed against the clear barrier as if she could have somehow jumped in front of him in time. But of course, Arthur was perfectly fine -- the armor wasn’t even dented -- laughing with Bucky about some comment she hadn’t caught. 

“I know that feeling.”

Darcy dropped her hands from the barrier and looked over at Steve. He stood there, arms crossed, clearly appraising her body language. She didn’t like how self-conscious it made her feel, but she could tell he really did know. It was like he was staring straight through her. When she said nothing he continued. 

“I still get that feeling every time Buck and I are in the field together. I can control my reactions better now than I used to, but that whole gut-dropping thing you just felt?” His chin tilted towards his chest and he regarded her through his stupidly long lashes. “That never goes away. Just like the pull.”

She knew what he was referring to. People talked all the time about the “soulmate pull.” It was apparently some insatiable instinct that drew soulmates together once their words had been said. Though Darcy couldn’t exactly say she had felt it yet, she supposed that was understandable considering they’d known each other for less than a day. 

“I think we’re gettin’ somewhere, Stark,” Arthur noted as he unstrapped the plate from his chest. “Didn’t feel a thing.”

“Great!” Tony took the plate from him and brought it back to his workbench. “Obviously we’ll still need to test it against higher firepower, but I think we’re on the right track with the Vibranium and Atlantean Steel compound.”

Arthur turned to Bucky who was returning his Glock to its place at his waist. “You don’t happen to have an Uzi hidden on you?”

Bucky pretended to be disappointed in himself, “Shoot. Left it in my other hoodie, sorry.”

“Seriously though,” Sam asked Bucky, “have you ever accidentally sent a jacket to the cleaners and left, like, a grenade in the pocket or something?” 

“Not recently,” Bucky smirked. “That’s a mistake you only make once.”

“We had to switch dry cleaners,” Steve added dryly. 

Arthur, who had come to stand beside her, leaned closer to whisper, “I can’t tell if they’re kidding or not.”

She glanced up at him, eyes meeting. “Honestly, it’s like a fifty-fifty.”

The amused smile he gave her in return sent a wave of butterflies loose in her stomach. Darcy marveled internally at the universe’s decision to pair her with this Adonis of a man. She certainly wasn’t mad about it, but it was a little overwhelming and she found herself in need of some air.

“Um,” she faltered for a second until she remembered to address everyone else in the room. “I should probably go. I just wanted to check in with you, dad. But I’ll see you all later.”

The second she left the room though, she felt it. Just for a moment, there was this ache, completely unlike any of the residual soreness in her muscles, and it sat just behind her sternum. It was almost like it was pushing her to turn around and go back through the door. Then just as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone again. She rubbed a hand over the spot and took a deep breath, which helped to steady her, then kept going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing. I love every single one of you. As I said, I haven't written in a million (*two) years until this fic, so I totally forgot how much those "New Comment On [insert title of work]" emails from AO3 make me smile :D Hugs to all of you lovely folx!
> 
> Darcy and Arthur finally get a little closer in this one ;)

That ache in her chest didn’t stay away. In fact, it began to get stronger. With every encounter they had, it grew a little bit more insistent and it wasn’t just disappearing right away anymore. Instead, it would linger, at first for only a few minutes at a time but eventually even longer. 

Like when she ran into Arthur on the elevator and she spent the entire ride trying to keep the conversation light (despite spending the whole time imagining how far down his body those tattoos really went). Once the elevator reached his floor, he got out, but Darcy immediately felt the urge to jump out with him, even though she knew Pepper was waiting for her in the lobby. The way he looked back at her as the doors closed gave Darcy the distinct sense that he felt it too. The ache in her chest didn’t ease up until halfway through her lunch date with Pepper.

Darcy was finding it harder and harder to get work done. She worked for a small tech startup in SoHo, and most of the time she was able to work remotely from home. However, occasionally she had to come into the office for meetings and the like. It was on a day that she had just such a meeting that she decided to hit the tower’s gym for a run before heading into work.

Nat had gotten her into the habit of running and kickboxing when she and Jane had moved into the tower after London. It was something both women resented at first, but the better she got at both things, the more Darcy began to enjoy them. They made her feel powerful and in control of her body. Jane, however, still profoundly hated working out. That morning, though, Darcy’s decision turned out to be a big mistake. She forgot how early Steve, Bucky, and Sam got up every morning to workout, and apparently Arthur had started joining them. 

The four of them were lifting weights when she came in and hopped onto a treadmill to start her workout. By the time she finished her run forty minutes later, they had moved onto sparring. Steve against Arthur while Bucky and Sam rested on the sidelines -- the former shouting tactical advice and the latter heckling. 

Darcy grabbed her water bottle off the treadmill and made her way towards the exit. Glancing over she happened to catch Arthur’s eye, and in his split-second of distraction, Steve managed to grab his arm, duck beneath it, and kick his foot out from under him, knocking Arthur to a knee. 

_Sorry_ , Darcy mouthed, pulling a guilty face. That was definitely her fault.

Sam jeered, “I’ve seen faster reflexes from my Grandma.”

“You’re gonna let a pretty dame throw you off your game like that, Curry?” Bucky teased.

“Hey,” Arthur shook off the hit, stood again, and flipped his hair out of his face then shrugged, “we get some tridents up in here, and you guys are fucked.”

Darcy laughed under her breath, but as she left the gym the pull began creeping back up on her. It got worse as she showered and got ready to head into the office, and it stayed all through her meeting. It was hard for her to focus. At least twice her boss called on her with questions that caught her completely off guard and Darcy had to fumble for the data and answers she had asked her for. It was dinner time before the ache went away.

* * *

Arthur had been staying at the tower for a little over a week when Pepper decided they should introduce him to family movie night. It was something that they’d been doing for years, really. Usually, once a month or so, Tony, Pepper, Darcy, and whoever else in the rotating cast of super tenants was staying in the tower at the time would gather together in the common area lounge of the residential floors, order takeout, pop a crazy amount of popcorn, and watch a movie all together. 

The tradition had been a great way to catch up Steve and Bucky with modern pop culture, but it was also one of Darcy’s favorite rituals because it made her feel as if the insane world of ridiculous people she had ended up in was still some kind of semi-normal family. Tonight’s movie was The Goonies -- an indomitable classic, but the centenarians had apparently never seen it.

Darcy was already tucked into one of the couches with Pepper on one side and Nat on the other when Arthur came in. His long hair was damp as if he’d just taken a shower and he was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt that showcased those mesmerizing muscles. She was fairly certain that some of her fascination with his arms came from learning that her words ( _“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”_ ) curved just beneath the pattern of spearheads covering the inside of his right bicep. 

She noticed the way his eyes slid across the room until he found her. Those damn butterflies were back again, but this time they were intensified by the pull behind her sternum. It had been almost two whole days now without a reprieve. When he saw she was already sitting surrounded, he gave her a smile and found a seat on the other side of the room next to Sam.

It was impossible to concentrate on the movie. Darcy couldn’t focus for more than a few seconds at a time when every instinct in her body was trying to get her closer to Arthur. She’d entertained the idea but ultimately decided that it would be inappropriate to try to climb Arthur like a tree in the present company.

Darcy finished her drink and figured that it was a great excuse to get some space. She knew deep down that it wouldn’t ease the pull she was feeling at all, but something had to make this easier because it was starting to drive her mad. She got up and headed to the kitchen, intending to get another soda from the fridge, but paused with her hand on the handle. Everything in her was telling her to go back and she knew implicitly it was because that’s where he was. 

“You’re feeling this too, right?” The warm baritone of Arthur’s voice made her turn around immediately. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, and the slightly pained look on his face seemed to match the internal dialogue she’d been having with herself.

“It’s like I have to be near you,” she admitted, shaking her head slightly. It sounded ridiculous and pathetic when she said it out loud. “I mean, I’d heard about this but I didn’t realize it would be so…” she trailed off, unsure of how to word it, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“Yeah, I know. Me either.” Arthur agreed, stepping further into the room.

“I don’t know how much longer I can fight it.”

He was practically in front of her now, “Why are you trying to fight it?” 

The question gave her pause. Why _was_ she fighting it? She fidgeted with the vibranium chain around her wrist -- a nervous habit of hers -- as she considered it. The universe had paired them intentionally. Darcy was attracted to him (oh boy, was she attracted to him). Perhaps they’d only known each other for a few days, but it’s not like she hadn’t hooked up with guys after knowing them for less time before. This man was, at least in theory, a far more compatible match than any of those men. 

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

There was a split second where his icy eyes searched hers, but as soon as he found his answer his mouth was on hers in a frenzied kiss. Her hands tangled themselves in his hair as he gripped her waist, and she wasn’t entirely proud of the gasp that escaped her when he pulled her body against him. She felt him chuckle, the small rumble in his chest sending a shiver through her. But she used that as an opportunity to brush her tongue against his, which he returned with equal enthusiasm. 

The moment their lips had met, it was like the pull that they’d been feeling finally tied them together. This felt good. It felt right. He pressed her up against the door of the refrigerator, and Darcy found herself glad for the support when she thought her knees might give out. Her hands left his hair and grabbed onto his sturdy arms to steady her instead.

Darcy wasn’t exactly sure how long they’d been at it when their attention was drawn by a throat clearing near the door. They quickly untangled themselves from each other, which was when she realized that at some point she had ended up with a leg wrapped around his, and one of his hands had snuck its way beneath her shirt against the small of her back.

Nat was standing there, arms folded and looking entirely like the cat who ate the canary. “How’s it going, guys?”

Arthur looked down at Darcy, one hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair nervously. “I, uh...We’re um…”

Darcy dragged a palm over her heated face, still tingling from the scratch and burn of his beard. “Nat, you have truly spectacular timing.” 

“I’ve been told,” Nat smirked, but then her tone turned back to business. “Curry, we just got a call. We could really use your help.”

“Uh, yeah.” Arthur seemed to have composed himself a bit more. “Just gimme a second.”

“Don’t take too long.” She gave them a knowing look, ignoring Darcy’s glare, then turned to exit the kitchen. “Wheels up in ten minutes,” she added over her shoulder.

Arthur swiveled back to face Darcy. “So I gotta go.”

“So I heard.” Darcy leaned back against the refrigerator, arms crossed over her chest, lifting an eyebrow at him. 

He shook his head to himself, but drifted toward her again, “Come here.” This time the kiss was much calmer -- reassuring almost, though Darcy wasn’t entirely sure who was reassuring who. He cupped the side of her face gently when they finally broke the kiss, but before he pulled away, Arthur pressed his nose and forehead against hers. “We will be picking up here when I get back,” he promised.

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Darcy grinned at him.

“Right here,” he emphasized, pointing at the ground between them even as he backed away reluctantly.

“Uh-huh.”

“ _Right _here.”__

__“Oh, I’m counting on it.”_ _

__As soon as he left, Darcy blew out a long breath. After a moment she realized, for the first time in nearly two days, the ache in her chest was absent. Though she had a feeling it wasn’t gone for good. And sure enough, the next morning when she woke up, the team was still off on their mission but the pull had returned._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to point out a fun, fluffy thing in this chapter. So Jason Momoa is Hawaiian, but the actor who played his father in Aquaman (Temuera Morrison) is Māori. Momoa has talked about choices he made for the character to reflect both Hawaiian and Māori heritage. But that forehead-to-forehead, nose-to-nose thing Arthur did in this chapter after their kiss is seen in both cultures (and several other Polynesian and Indigenous Pacific cultures). The Māori call it “hongi,” and Hawaiians call it “honi,” but it’s a gesture that’s meant to honor the heart and soul of another person. 
> 
> I tried so hard to find a GIF of Jason doing the hongi/honi with someone for this chapter, but I could only find photos. So you get two images for this chapter -- the GIF above, and this adorable photo of Jason Momoa and Taika Waititi doing the gesture at the Golden Globes:  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the change in rating and the updated tags. Lemons ahead ;)

Darcy was frustrated. The team had been away for almost seventy-two hours now, and with every passing hour, the feeling in her chest got stronger and more intense. Not only was that irritating and uncomfortable, but it was starting to affect her in other ways too. 

Namely, Darcy was _frustrated_. Both of the last two nights, she’d gone to bed with her battery-powered boyfriend and a mental catalog of all the times since meeting Arthur that she’d seen him either sleeveless or shirtless (which was kind of a lot -- that was a man who did not like to be restricted by clothing) but it never seemed to help abate the tugging of her heart behind her ribs. 

She tried her hardest to concentrate on her work, but even that was a lost cause. Darcy ended up rereading the same paragraph of an email about twenty times before she gave up and set her computer aside with a frustrated sigh. There wasn’t even anyone home at the tower that she was close enough to that she could hang out with to distract herself. It was times exactly like these that she desperately missed having Jane around. Her best friend and former boss had taken on an adjunct professorship position in the astrophysics department at MIT nearly six months prior. 

Darcy couldn’t blame her, though. The university had specifically sought her out and offered, in addition to a decent teaching contract, full funding for her current research projects and the opportunity to work directly alongside some of Jane’s most highly regarded peers in the field. So while Tony had counter-offered the funding, he couldn’t match the networking possibilities at his alma mater, and with Thor off-world trying to sort out various political messes in the rest of the nine realms Jane didn’t have enough reasons to stay in New York. Darcy was happy for Jane, but she missed her friend.

She picked up her phone and scrolled to Jane’s name in her contacts. Sometimes the older woman was so absorbed in her work that she forgot she even had a phone, but luckily it only rang twice before Jane picked up. 

“Hey, girl!” Jane chirped brightly.

Darcy flopped back onto the cushions of her couch, already feeling minutely better simply from the sound of her friend’s voice. “Janey! Ugh, I miss your face.”

“I miss yours!”

“How’s the Mega Intelligent Teachery?”

Jane laughed at the nickname Darcy had adopted for MIT shortly after she had begun working there. “It’s great. Mega intelligent and whatnot.”

“Teachin’ it up?”

“I’m trying,” Jane sighed. “I’m telling you, some of these students are on a whole other level. I sent out midterm grades last week, and I shit-you-not, one kid emailed me back with just a GIF of that little side-eyeing girl in the car seat.”

Darcy wasn’t proud of the snort-laugh that escaped her. 

“But enough about me, girl. Tell me about your boo!” Darcy had called her two weeks earlier when she and Arthur had first met and exchanged soul words, but they hadn’t had a chance to catch up since then. 

“I don’t know if I’d call him my ‘boo,’ Janey,” Darcy swore she could feel Jane’s eye roll through the phone. “I mean, we kissed.”

“What!?” Jane shouted, and Darcy had to yank the phone away from her ear to keep her eardrum intact. “And you’re just now telling me this? When did this happen?”

“Like two days ago.”

“ _What!?_ How am I just now hearing about it? How’s the sex?”

“No sex yet,” Darcy exhaled heavily.

“Hold on,” Jane’s surprise was palpable, “What about the pull?”

“Yeah, that shit sucks,” Darcy admitted with a groan. “Two out of ten, do not recommend.”

“Well, like it’ll get better you know? After you guys have sex.”

“Wait,” Darcy sat up so quickly that she whacked her knee on the coffee table. “Ow, shit.” She rubbed her knee but tried to focus back on what Jane had said. “I figured that was a myth. See, this is why schools are failing us with their pathetic sex education programs.”

“I mean, technically it’s a little different for everyone, but from my understanding, it’s about that instinct trying to achieve deep intimacy. Like, of course, some soulmates are asexual or demisexual, so obviously the majority of their intimacy wouldn’t come from sex. But with sexual couples, that’s usually the endgame.”

“Huh. I mean, I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I’ve been hella horny since he left.”

Jane laughed loudly on the other end of the line, though Darcy was less amused. “That’ll happen. I mean, there’s a reason that I was such a mess the whole year that Thor was gone while we were in London. And it’s certainly not because I can’t function without a man. It just gets worse the longer you’re not around each other. Right now, it’s been a few weeks since Thor was able to visit last. So it’s kinda sucky, but I’ve managed worse.”

“Well, now I definitely understand that whole month that you lived in your pajamas and ate nothing but chocolate-orange Digestives,” Darcy affirmed. 

“They really are the superior flavor,” Jane agreed. Then suddenly, Darcy heard a commotion on the other end of the line. “Oh shit. I’ve got machines beeping at me. I’ve got to go recalibrate.”

“Go,” Darcy urged her. “Do genius-ey stuff. Calibrate all the things.”

“And you should go do stuff,” Jane insisted. “Don’t live in your pajamas like me.”

Darcy giggled at that, “ I won’t. I promise. That was a dark time for humanity.”

She could practically hear Jane’s eye roll. “I love you Darce.”

“I love you too, boss lady. Miss your face.”

“Miss yours more.”

As soon as they hung up, Darcy realized she needed coffee, and maybe some food wouldn’t hurt either. It was about lunchtime anyway. And while she _technically_ wasn’t in her pajamas, she figured she should follow Jane’s advice and change out of the sweatpants and sports bra she had been working from home in. She threw on the first clean clothes she found -- a t-shirt with a picture of Neil deGrasse Tyson that said “Y’all mothafuckas need science!” and a pair of denim shorts -- ran a brush through her hair, and swiped on some mascara. Feeling much more put together and ready to face the day, she grabbed her purse and headed out. 

She walked the four blocks to 42nd Street station and took the B train down to the Lower East Side. Once off the train, she walked another two blocks to her favorite hole-in-the-wall pizza place. Darcy grabbed a slice of pepperoni (and plenty of napkins) and ate it as she walked around the corner and down the block to a little coffee shop she’d discovered shortly after discovering the pizza joint. 

It was an obnoxiously hipster type place, with exposed brick, succulents lining the windows, and baristas that wore the floppiest of beanies even in the dead of summer. Darcy ordered her large iced vanilla latte and took it to a table in the corner. She let herself zone out, sipping her coffee absently, and scrolling through her social media feeds, enjoying the gentle bustle of the place around her as much as possible. The whir of coffee grinders and the pleasant smell of roasted beans made her want to relax but the throb in her chest made it close to impossible.

Her scrolling was interrupted by a text from Nat. 

_Inbound. ETA 30 min._

Another text followed a few seconds later.

 _Please tell me you’re at the tower. Arthur’s not doing great._

Darcy didn’t even need to ask what that meant. She knew that however restless and uncomfortable she felt, Arthur was likely feeling just as much. At least she hadn’t needed to concentrate on potentially dangerous tactical operations while she’d been feeling this way the past two days. 

**I’ll be there by the time you guys get home.** Darcy replied before tucking her phone into her purse and starting the trek back to the tower. Every step closer felt almost like following an invisible north star. Like the twinge beneath her shirt promised to ease up if she just kept getting closer to him. The half-hour back to the tower felt ten times longer. The elevator ride up to the common floor seemed like the longest minute of her life, and she spent the whole time bouncing slightly on her toes like a runner stopped at a crosswalk. When the doors opened, Nat was standing there waiting for her.

“He’s still on the prep deck just off the landing pad,” the redhead informed her, taking in Darcy’s fidgety state with a knowing nod.

Darcy nodded back, “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, just go take care of each other,” Nat ordered. “FRIDAY, take her up to the prep deck, please.”

“Right away, ladies,” FRIDAY agreed. And in the next moment, the doors were shutting and Darcy was ascending again.

She fidgeted nervously with the bracelet on her wrist. The pull was feeling more insistent with every moment, though it was only a few seconds before the elevator reached its destination with a quiet _ding_. Darcy stepped off the elevator but stopped when she saw him. 

He was standing at the opposite end of the prep deck, leaning heavily into a hand he had propped against a locker. His other hand was pressed against the center of his chest, just beneath the greenstone pendant around his neck, and it looked almost as if he was trying to catch his breath. 

She knew the moment he saw her because he paused, their gaze locked, and the intensity of it sent a shiver down her spine. Her body practically vibrating with need -- she needed to be near him, close to him, touching him. Their silent faceoff didn’t last much longer before he was advancing on her, mouths crashing together and arms snaking around each other. It was like they couldn’t get close enough. Despite the complete lack of space between them, Darcy needed more. 

“My place,” she managed to gasp out, and he practically growled in response. 

In the next moment, he had hoisted her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist and locking together at the ankles. He carried her back into the elevator, and she pulled away long enough to ask FRIDAY to send them straight up to her floor. By then Arthur had her up against the wall of the elevator and was working his way down her neck with his lips and tongue, his beard tickling her skin and setting her nerves alight. Once on her floor, he followed her semi-coherent instructions, breathed out between kisses, to get down the hallway, and to her apartment.

“FRIDAY, door,” Darcy requested breathlessly. She heard the gentle _click_ of the door unlocking, then reached behind her, fumbling blindly for the handle. When she finally found it, they stumbled through the doorway, and by some miracle of physics, he kept them upright. 

“Bedroom?” Arthur panted.

Darcy inclined her head past the living room toward a hallway. “That way.”

He took off in the direction she had indicated, but as he did, Darcy realized how sick she was of being dressed. Arthur seemed to have a fairly good grip on her as he navigated them into her bedroom, so she let go of his shoulders to grab the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head, tossing it wherever. She grabbed for his shirt next because she was well past ready to let those muscles out, but with her legs circling his waist, she was fighting a losing battle. 

He chuckled against her neck as he crossed to the bed, then gently tossed her onto the mattress, “Patience is a virtue, babe.”

“Patience can kiss my ass,” she said, propping her shoulders up with her elbows behind her. “I want you naked.”

He grinned but the look in his eye was purely carnal. “Now how could I deny such a reasonable request?” 

Before Darcy could answer, she was watching Arthur’s tattooed obliques ripple and stretch as he lifted the offending thing over his head and dropped it away. He toed out of his heavy black boots, then reached for his belt, and once that was undone he pushed his jeans to the floor.

Darcy blew out a slow breath as she took all of him in. And there was _a lot_ to take in. Well, she finally had an answer to her query about how far down those tattoos extended. The tribal markings from his torso continued to curl down across his hips and the outsides of his thighs, and there were rows of shark teeth circling his calves that matched the ones on his forearms. 

“Holy shit.”

One of those dark eyebrows curved upward in amusement, but then he was leaning over her, covering her body with his own.

“Things seem woefully out of balance here, babe. To quote someone very wise, ‘I want you naked.’” 

She laughed at that, but when Arthur cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples through her bra, she felt the pull that had been burning in her chest for so long move lower and settle deep in her belly. Darcy had never been so glad to be wearing a bra that hooked in the front. It took a little angling with him on top of her, but as soon as she got it open and her breasts were free, he made a sound like he’d just won the lottery. He leaned forward to catch one pink nub with his lips, and Darcy felt it all the way in her toes. He kept up his attention to her breasts, kneading and licking at them, and raising goosebumps all over her body. 

She reached down between them to unbutton her shorts and shimmied them and her underwear down her legs until she was able to kick them off her feet at the end of the bed. Arthur wasted no time in delving a hand between her legs and her breath stuttered at the sudden contact.

“All that for me?” he asked, sliding his fingers through the wetness of her folds.

“I don’t know,” she teased, reaching down to wrap her hand around his cock and giving it a few strokes. “Is all this for me?”

He groaned deep in his chest. “All yours, babe. I’m all yours.”

The implication behind his words threatened to make her prematurely sentimental. But right now she just needed to be filled by him, and she told him as much. 

“Hold on,” he edged, drawing one wet finger up to circle her clit. “We better get you warmed up a little first.”

Darcy threw her head back with a gasp when his finger pressed up into her, but she welcomed the feeling, needing even more. After a few moments, he added a second finger, then eventually a third until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“I need you, Arthur,” she said desperately, reaching again for his cock. He didn’t seem to have any arguments to that, and his fingers were soon replaced with the blunt head of his cock pushing into her as her hands fisted in the comforter. 

About halfway in, he paused, “You okay?”

“More!”

He chuckled at her insistence, “Just wanna make sure I’m not hurting you.”

She stared directly into his eyes, “I’m great. Please fuck me.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” he trailed off, but then gave in to her request, pushing into her all the way.

This was it. This is what she had been needing. He was in her, around her, above her, and everything felt right, finally. He set a pounding rhythm while her hands searched for purchase in the valleys of his muscled flesh. She felt the beginnings of an orgasm stirring deep inside her, and in a move she had perfected in college, she threw a leg over his hips to flip them so she could be on top. 

“Oh shit,” Arthur grunted out, clearly not expecting the maneuver, but he seemed perfectly happy when she sank back down and began to ride him enthusiastically. It also probably didn’t hurt that this angle put him face-to-face with her tits, which bounced in time with her efforts. She braced herself, gripping his upper arms, fingernails digging into his skin though she knew it was unlikely to bother him. At some point, she realized that her thumb was resting squarely over the words on his arm at the same time that his large hands were holding fast just where his words trailed around her ribs.

Those stirrings she’d felt continued to build until she was right on the edge, a high-pitched whine escaping her on every downstroke. Arthur gripped her hips tightly, fingers digging deliciously into her soft skin. Darcy leaned forward to capture his lips in another heated kiss. The change in angle caused her hardened nipples to drag against his chest and her clit to get just enough pressure on each thrust, and that was all she needed to push her over the edge. Her fluttering walls clamped down around him as pleasure flooded her in waves. Arthur steadied her with hands on her waist and took over most of the work thrusting up into her until he was coming too, filling her and riding out their orgasms together. 

Darcy collapsed forward against him, both of them breathing heavily. As the sweat cooled on their skin, it sent a chill down her spine. Arthur carefully pulled out of her and helped her maneuver so she was tucked into his side, then he snagged the throw blanket tossed over the end of the bed and pulled it over them both (though it wasn’t long enough to cover anything below his knees).

“Feel better?” he asked, a contented smile on his scruffy face.

Darcy took stock of her body. “Well, I’m definitely gonna be sore tomorrow,” she laughed, “but the pull is gone.”

He chuckled back, “I mean it wanted us close. I don’t know how much closer we could have gotten just now.”

Darcy supposed that was true. The way she was folded into his side, absently tracing the pattern of shark teeth marking his forearm with a fingertip, felt so right. She knew that part of that feeling was the soulmate instincts at work, but it was also much more than that. The man beside her was kind and sweet. She’d seen him around the others in the tower and he was always doing something to help someone else. He always volunteered to wash dishes if someone cooked family dinner and he was constantly reminding everyone to recycle like some buff, aquatic Lorax. Darcy often forgot that Arthur was technically a king, but she figured that was part of why he was so quick to serve others, and she knew that genuine care is what made him a great leader.

That reminded her though, that he would be leaving soon. 

“How much longer are you staying?” She hated asking it but needed to know.

Arthur was quiet for a moment, but finally, he said, “Another week, maybe. Once your dad and I finish my new armor, I have to head back to Gotham for a day or two, then back to my people in Atlantis.”

Darcy nodded to herself, taking in what he said. She didn’t like it, but she understood. His free hand came up to cup her jaw, turning her head to look at him. 

His bright eyes bored into her darker ones, and she noticed then that his eyes were far more green than they’d looked before. “I’m not just gonna leave you here, Darcy. I want to be with you.” The relief that flooded her with those simple words took her off guard. “I’ll be back, taku whaiāipo.”

Darcy might not have known what the nickname meant, but the warmth behind it translated perfectly. “I didn’t realize how much this would affect me. Like, we’ve known each other less than a month and I know this is normal with soulmates, but I just…” she trailed off, unsure how to word it.

“I’m right there with you,” he agreed, shaking his head slightly.

“I guess we’re figuring this shit out together, huh?”

He nodded then pressed a scratchy kiss to her forehead. “We got this, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Taku whaiāipo” translates to “My sweetheart” in Māori.
> 
> Also, we’ve seen various eye colors for Aquaman in multiple movies. The background I could find for it is that according to the DCEU lore Arthur’s eyes change with his moods. When he’s doing more of the loner thing they’re more icy blue, when he’s around family/people and places he cares more about they get greener, and when he’s underwater/in the armor/holding his trident they turn bright gold.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get more of a look into Darcy’s other familial relationships in this one.

Darcy decided the next morning that she was going to take full advantage of their time together before Arthur had to leave, so she made it a mission to take him to her favorite places around the city. 

She introduced him to the tiny used bookstore in Brooklyn that had been there since Steve and Bucky were teens, where she loaded his arms full of books (“I mean, we might as well put all those muscles to good use.”), though he didn’t seem to mind. He happily carried every title she handed him or recommended to him and picked up several just for himself.

They had a picnic in Washington Square Park. Though “picnic” actually meant falafels from a street vendor, but they _did_ eat them while laid out on a blanket Darcy had packed in an oversized purse. She had to remind herself that they were in public at least twice when kisses that started out gentle and sweet threatened to get far more heated. (“The old lady on that bench over there keeps glaring at us.”)

She dragged Arthur into Times Square where she forced him to take photos with both Times Square Elmo and the Naked Cowboy (“If you didn’t see Times Square Elmo, you didn’t see New York!”). He tolerated her insistence gracefully, and she paid him back that evening with some dedicated and enthusiastic fellatio.

Darcy even got him to sit down and watch Disney’s animated “Atlantis” with her, just to hear him complain about everything they got wrong about his kingdom. (“Okay, I get the logic they’re trying to use with the crystals, but that is _not_ how Atlantean magic works!”) And it was completely worth all the ranting just to cuddle up on the couch with him the whole time. Arthur was an avid cuddler. 

But eventually, Tony had finished Arthur’s new armor made from the Vibranium-Atlantean-Steel alloy they had developed. Arthur couldn’t really put it off any longer. He had to check in with his team in Gotham and then get back to his people in Atlantis. After her experience the last time they’d been apart, Darcy almost expected the pull to return full force as soon as he left, but she was pleasantly surprised when that didn’t happen. No pull -- no discomfort at all -- though she was aware that wouldn’t last forever.

By the end of the week, the pull had started to build again. Like before, it began mildly and easy to ignore but grew a little bit more each day. Darcy did her best to absorb herself in work. Luckily, she had a new project launching at her job, and Nat had been nagging her to start self-defense training with her again, which would hopefully give her enough distractions for a while.

Nat was already in the gym, standing in the center of the sparring mats when Darcy got there. Her fiery hair was pulled back into a high ponytail which fell over her face as she folded forward to stretch her hamstrings. 

“You’re late котик.”

“Yeah, sorry. I will point out, I’d be more likely to be on time if you didn’t insist on training at the asscrack of dawn like this,” Darcy gestured to the darkness outside the wide windows with her water bottle.

Nat rolled her eyes and pointed at the treadmill, “Ten minutes. Get warmed up and we’ll get started.”

Darcy gave her a mock salute but followed the instructions. They had a great relationship. The older woman was almost like an aunt or a big sister to Darcy, but she knew Nat would still make her do burpees if she got too sarcastic. And Darcy hated burpees. 

Once she finished her warm-up Nat had Darcy start with some hand-to-hand combos, and then they eventually moved onto defensive holds. Nat had her pinned on the mat while Darcy tried to break out of the position. When done right, the move was supposed to let her flip Nat from where she was sitting astride Darcy’s hips and onto her back.

“Somebody’s rusty,” Nat admonished when Darcy failed to flip her for the third time in a row. “This is what happens when you slack on your training.”

Darcy flopped her head back onto the mat with a _thud_. “Ugh, I’m aware. And just so you know, I’m already regretting this tomorrow.”

Nat gave an amused huff, “Let’s try breaking out of that hold again. Come on, Darce. This shit could be life or death.”

“I know, I know. Okay, fine.”

This time, Nat reset with her hands on Darcy’s neck. Darcy grabbed Nat’s right wrist with her own, her left hand coming up to grip the back of Nat’s elbow. Darcy’s left foot wrapped around the outside of Nat’s calf -- here’s where she kept having trouble.

“Elbow down. Get that hip up high!” Nat coached.

Darcy planted her free foot into the mat and used it as leverage to try to push her right hip high enough to roll them over.

“Push that hip up!” Nat yelled again.

Finally, Darcy pushed hard enough with her foot to flip them and she landed on top of the other woman.

“Good!” Nat praised as they relaxed out of the position and Darcy caught her breath. “You’ve been trying to push into the mat with your shoulders instead of your foot. You have to keep that elbow locked down to shift your weight into that free foot.

Darcy nodded and got ready to reset. This time she remembered to keep her elbow down, and her hips came up and rolled over much swifter than before.

“Better,” the redhead acknowledged sitting up again. “Now we have to get you doing that faster.”

Darcy made a face, “I thought that _was_ faster.”

After a long, hot shower and a breakfast that involved at least three donuts (she figured she had more than earned every last sprinkle), Darcy spent the rest of the morning alternating between moping around her apartment and getting work done on her laptop when FRIDAY interrupted her pattern.

“Pardon me, Miss Darcy, but you have a visitor.”

“I do?” Darcy asked, setting her laptop aside and getting up to check the door. She knew that FRIDAY would never let someone who didn’t have the proper clearance up to the residential floors, but she wondered who it could be that the AI wouldn’t announce them by name. “I’m assuming I know this visitor?” she asked out loud.

“You do indeed, Miss Darcy.”

“Okay,” she shrugged as she reached the door and opened it.

Darcy was nearly tackled to the ground by a whirlwind of dark hair.

“JANEY!” she shouted once she knew what was happening. “Oh my Thor, what are you doing here!?” Darcy wrapped her arms around her best friend to match the rib-cracking hug Jane was giving her.

“Spring break, baby!” Jane answered, finally letting go and pulling back so they could get a good look at each other. Jane’s hair was a few inches shorter than the last time Darcy had seen her but other than that she looked essentially the same.

“Ahh! You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point of a surprise visit!”

“Fair,” Darcy nodded with a giggle. “That’s a fair point. How long are you here?”

“Just a couple days,” Jane replied, scrunching up her nose in a pout. 

“Then we better make the most of it.”

Jane threw her arms up in solidarity, “Spring break, baby!”

Darcy grimaced, “Every time you say that I feel like we should be flashing gross frat dudes for free Natty Light t-shirts on an equally gross beach in Florida.”

The older woman made a similar face, “Yeah, ew. I’m gonna stop saying that now.”

“I mean, I would,” Darcy agreed, eyebrows lifting. Then something else occurred to her. “Wait, do Pepper and Nat know you’re here?”

“I’m assuming that Nat knows just because I don’t think it’s possible to get anything past that woman. But I didn’t tell Pepper yet.”

“Let’s go!” Darcy grinned. “She’s gonna freak. We’ve gotta go get tacos and margaritas tonight!”

“Yes!” Jane punched the air in anticipation. “Banana margaritas!”

“You and your banana margaritas. I swear,” Darcy shook her head, turning her eyes to the ceiling.

The four women went out that night and shared three whole pitchers of margaritas, then eventually ended up back at the tower taking over the common floor lounge. They spread out across the various couches and overstuffed armchairs, bags of late-night McDonalds spilled out, and picked over on the coffee tables while episodes of Queer Eye played in the background. 

Darcy and Jane were tucked in together on a couch. Pepper had passed out almost an hour earlier and was snoring gently. Nat looked like she was asleep on her own recliner, but you could never really be sure with her.

Darcy peered over at her friend. “You need to visit more boss lady. I miss you.”

“I know,” Jane acknowledged wistfully. “I should be able to visit again as soon as the spring semester ends, hopefully for a little longer. Most of our lab assistants are students, so they’ll probably be taking off for a while after finals anyway.” Jane leaned forward and grabbed a half-empty carton of fries off the coffee table.

“Yessss!” Darcy cried quietly so as not to wake Pepper or Nat. “We should take a road trip or something.”

“We _should_ take a road trip.” Jane popped a cold fry into her mouth. “Just like the old days.”

“Just not in that crappy old van,” Darcy giggled, reaching over to steal one of her fries. “You know, the one with the two Thor-shaped dents in the bumper?”

“Shut up,” Jane rolled her eyes and threw a fry at her. “I’ve seen you drive too, and it’s not much better.”

Darcy retrieved the fry from where it had landed on her shirt and threw it back at Jane. “Hey, at least I’ve never crashed directly into my soulmate.”

“Only because you don’t drive a boat.”

“Fair point. That’s a fair point,” Darcy conceded, overly serious until they burst into giggles again. After a beat, she asked, “Janey, how in the hell did you and I both end up with tall, muscley, reluctant royalty?”

“I’ve asked myself the same question before,” Jane admitted. “I have no fucking clue. The hardest part is accepting the fact that we may always be a little long-distance,” she shrugged. “Even if he doesn’t step in as King, his life is so tied to his people. Leading them and helping them means he has to be there, meanwhile my life is so tied to my research here.”

“I feel that.”

Jane continued, “I may be able to make a home where he is at some point, or maybe there will be a point in the future where all the issues he’s helping to fix have actually settled enough that he can be back here more permanently. But it’s all very up in the air.”

“I hadn’t even given it that much thought yet, honestly,” Darcy said thoughtfully. “But that is almost exactly the situation I’m in with Arthur. It’s hard to look at all of that and imagine it working.”

“Just appreciate the time that you can be together with him, whenever you can. Have you guys talked about any of this yet?”

“Well, not really, no.”

“Well then do that first before you freak yourself out about everything.”

Darcy regarded her friend with a smile. “When did you get so wise with all this stuff? I used to have to remind you to eat and shower on a semi-daily basis.”

“Hey,’ Jane laughed sharply, “my lab assistants still have to do that when I’m wrapped up in my work.”

“Good to know at least some things stay the same,” Darcy sighed, leaning over to lay her head on Jane’s shoulder.

* * *

Darcy stirred her latte with the straw, ice cubes clacking against each other as they spun inside the reusable cup. One of Pepper’s assistants had dropped off their Saturday morning Starbucks to Tony and Pepper’s apartment several minutes earlier, and Tony was throwing together their breakfast. Sometimes they ate sugary cereal, sometimes they went all out making pancakes or french toast, and sometimes they ate cold leftovers from dinner the night before, but this was their weekly tradition. 

It had started shortly after Darcy’s mom passed away. Both of them reeling in their own ways. Darcy felt rudderless without her mother, and Tony felt helpless to comfort Darcy as much as he thought she deserved. Somehow they just fell into the habit of breakfasting and coffee-ing together every Saturday morning. 

They even continued the ritual when Darcy moved away for college at Culver -- eating their respective meals via video chat. Occasionally, Darcy would be indisposed after a Science! bender with Jane or Tony would be on a mission somewhere remote without service. But they always made a point to check in with each other and make sure they could resume the following week.

“You okay, Princess?” Tony asked, sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of her from across the island. He knew exactly how she liked them -- over easy and seasoned with salt, pepper, and chili powder. 

Darcy made a face at his question, but picked up her fork and cut into her food. “I’m sick of my favorite people leaving me,” she explained with a heavy sigh then took a bite. As soon as she said it she realized how petulant it sounded, but seeing Jane off to the airport the night before had her in a funk.

Tony shot her a look from the other side of the counter, where he was busy tucking into his own eggs. “You know they’re not leaving _you_ , they just have obligations.”

She rolled her eyes.“I know, I know.” It was rare that her dad played the voice of reason instead of the other way around. “But it still sucks. Jane’s gone, Arthur’s gone. I still miss Thor and Clint all the time. Even Bruce is still in India for the foreseeable future.”

“You miss your family.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, drawing the tines of her fork through the broken yolk oozing across her plate. “And I know I’ve got you and Pepp. And there’s always Nat and the boys,” Darcy reasoned out loud.

“You’ve never liked when people leave,” her dad gave an understanding shrug. “And as fucked up and cobbled together as our family is…”

“It’s _my_ fucked up and cobbled together family,” Darcy nodded. “I hate when you make this much sense.”

“It’s like watching a dog walk on its hind legs isn’t it?”

“Exactly. Not unheard of, but a little weird all the same.”

Tony waved his fork in her direction, “Your job is pretty flexible. You could go visit _them_ , ya’ know. And you can always use the jet if you need to.”

“I appreciate it, dad. I guess I can visit Janey sometime. And I ‘spose I could see Arthur when he’s in Gotham, but I don’t really know if visiting him when he’s in Atlantis is possible.”

Tony tilted his head then, his gaze going past her head.

“Oh shit,” Darcy realized, “I know that look. What did I say?”

His eyebrows scrunched together, “How small and portable do you think I could make a scuba set?”

Darcy laughed. It didn’t take much for her dad to get latched onto an engineering project. It was often his favorite way to show affection for the people around him.

“You’re gonna be here for a while, huh?” she asked him.

“Huh?” he glanced back up at her from where he’d already opened up a holoscreen and grabbed the StarkPad that had been sitting on the counter beside him to start sketching out some designs. His plate sat abandoned by his elbow.

“Okay,” she smiled. “Finish-- Hey!” Darcy snapped her fingers in front of him to get his attention and she waited until he focused on her again. Then she continued, “Finish your breakfast, okay? Promise?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved her off, already back in his designs.

“I’ll have FRIDAY order you some lunch later. Have fun, dad,” She rolled her eyes affectionately, then got up and set her empty plate in the sink, snagging the leftover slice of toast to eat on the go. She swiped her coffee off the counter and left Tony to his engineering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we didn’t get a ton of Arthur in this chapter, but worry not, the next chapter totally makes up for that.   
> Also, if you’ve never eaten eggs with chili powder, you’re missing out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is straight lemons and fluff. Basically a lemon meringue pie.
> 
> Also, we’re going slightly based on the movie and slightly based on versions of the comics with what Arthur tells Darcy about Atlantis and her accessibility to it here. Don’t look too hard at it. Let’s just let them be happy. 
> 
> Happy lemon meringue pie.

Darcy spent most of the rest of the day making up the work she had slacked on a little while Jane was in town. It was the early evening when she finally felt like she had reached a good stopping point, and decided to reward all her progress by unwinding with a bubble bath. 

She had to hand it to the interior designers her dad had contracted when building the tower, they knew how to pick out a jacuzzi tub. The tub in her bathroom was one of her favorite parts of living in the tower. It was easily big enough to fit three people and had a ledge built into the side that was perfect for balancing a glass of wine and some candles.

She twisted the taps, checking the water temperature with her fingertips, spilled in a generous amount of her favorite bubble bath liquid, then left it to fill knowing it would take a while. She headed into the kitchen where she poured a glass of cabernet, then headed back to the bathroom. Darcy grabbed a bath towel from the cabinet under the sink. She took out the candles and lighter she kept in the vanity for just such occasions, lighting and setting a few on the ledge by the tub, and the rest on the countertop. 

Finally, the tub was full. Darcy shed the clothes she’d been wearing, pulled her hair into a messy bun to keep it out of the water, and stepped into the hot bath. She sighed contentedly as she sunk down and let the bubbles swallow her up.

Darcy lost track of how much time she spent kicked back and zoning out, but her wine was nearly gone and the suds were starting to wane when the mild ache in her chest began to get more insistent. She pressed a hand over the spot where the burn of her soulmate instincts sat and groaned into the void.

She screamed when the void answered back. 

“I think I can help with that.”

Arthur was leaning against the doorjamb, a devilish expression on his face.

“Holy shit!” Her hand stayed where it was on her bare chest, but this time it was as an anchor to bring her heart rate back down to Earth. “You just gave me a stroke.”

He let out a rumbling laugh and began toward her, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it to the rug as he went. “Then you should let me make it better.”

“Hey, no complaints over here now that I know you’re not an axe murderer.”

“You get a lot of axe murderers up in here?” he asked, one animated eyebrow lifting as he loosened his belt then undid the button and zipper on his jeans.

“I mean, you’d be surprised at the number of crazies that have it out for my fucked up family.” She just barely stopped herself from licking her lips when his pants hit the floor and he stepped out of them.

“If you remember,” Arthur climbed into the bath and sank into the water until it came up to his chest, “I’ve seen a few of them myself.” He surged toward her, making the bubbles lap at the tops of her breasts, until he was close enough to press his lips against her throat. “Hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t resist you in all this water.”

“I guess that is sort of your thing, huh?” she replied, breath catching when he sucked hard against her pulse point.

“You’re sort of my thing,” he whispered into her damp skin.

She shook her head, teasingly. “Oh, so cheesy.”

“Oh yeah?” Arthur pulled back. The devilish look had returned, and in the next moment he was ducking beneath the depleted layer of bubbles on top of the water, nudging her legs further apart to fit his wide shoulders between them, and his mouth was on her. 

Darcy melted into the porcelain wall behind her back as his tongue ran from her opening all the way up to her clit and back. He worked her over, making her shiver and writhe. There was a brief moment when she nearly panicked that he’d been underwater for too many minutes before she remembered that, of course, being Atlantean, he could breathe just fine. Arthur’s tongue circled the bundle of nerves at the top of her mound, then sucked with just the right amount of pressure to send her tumbling into her orgasm. She had to grab at him to get him to ease up when it became too much to handle. 

“Arthur, I can’t…” she yelped.

He came up laughing, water streaming down his face, with foamy suds clinging to his mustache and eyelashes. 

“The bubbles don’t bother you?” she panted, muscles still twitching with aftershocks.

He shrugged, a smug grin still painting his features. “It’s a little like trying to breathe in a cloud of perfume, but I’ll live.”

Darcy had partially recovered by this point and reached for his cock, finding it hard and straining under the water. “I would pay you back,” she assured him, “but unfortunately I don’t share your magical respiratory abilities.”

Arthur chuckled but leaned into her grasp. “I’ve got a better idea. How about you turn around?”

“I see where you’re going with this.” She grinned at him and followed his orders, turning however awkwardly around to lean into her elbows against the edge of the tub. 

Darcy felt Arthur shift behind her, then his hard length was pushing into her cunt from behind. She spread her knees a little wider to better their angle, but then he was able to start thrusting comfortably into her. She was already sensitive from her previous orgasm and in this position Arthur dragged against that perfect spot inside her with every buck. His hands left her hips to slide across her waist and up to her breasts. Darcy cried out as he began to play with her nipples, the pleasure shot straight to her belly and she clamped down around him. 

“Ungh,” he grunted, “You keep doing that, I’m not gonna last, babe.”

“Can’t help it,” she moaned. But his hands kept moving, one going back to her waist and the other drawing its way up and across her throat to cup her jaw. His thumb ran across her lips as she leaned into his grip and her tongue darted out to lick away the water that clung to his skin.

Arthur continued to pound into her, water splashing and spilling over the edge of the tub with every snap of his hips, but neither of them noticed or cared. Darcy was so close to a second orgasm. Her arms shook as she struggled not to lose her leverage on the wet porcelain. Thankfully, Arthur seemed to take note.

“Lean forward. I got you,” he assured her.

Again, she followed his commands and bowed further over. She was able to prop her head, turned to the side, against her folded arms, and her breasts pressed against the wall of the tub. The change in angle was perfect, and it only took half a dozen more thrusts before she was crying out her climax into the humid air. Darcy felt Arthur’s rhythm begin to stutter and get less even, and soon he was slanting forward, his chest to her back, as he came inside her, groaning into her neck.

They stayed locked together like that for a minute or so longer until Darcy’s knees started protesting the prolonged position. Arthur pulled out of her and tenderly brushed his fingers against her folds, rinsing away his come. Then he helped her up and out of the tub, handing her the fluffy towel she’d set out earlier so she could wrap it around herself against the chill of the bathroom air. 

She got him another towel from under the sink so he could dry off, then grabbed his hand and dragged him into the bedroom. Darcy crawled under the sheets and Arthur followed, twining an arm around her middle and pulling her against him.

She sighed quietly into his chest, feeling at ease now that he was finally back and with her again. But that thought reminded her of her conversation with Jane. Their situation wasn’t uncomplicated, and they’d barely scratched the surface of the logistics of their relationship. She pulled back far enough that she could look him in the eye. In turn, he was appraising her with an expression that threatened to turn her insides to jelly, but she forced herself to ignore that for the time being. They had a lot to talk about. 

“We have to figure some shit out.”

“That sounds serious,” Arthur smirked

“I mean, it is a little,” Darcy shrugged and reached up to brush a damp curl out of his face. “This whole soulmates thing is amazing when we’re with each other, but honestly it totally blows when we’re not. And with you having to split your time between three cities, it adds up to kind of a lot of time apart.” She glanced away from his piercing eyes then, choosing instead to focus on the greenstone pendant that hung against his collarbone. “Especially when one of those cities is a little physically inaccessible to me.”

“I get that,” Arthur granted with a quirk of his lips. “Frankly, I don’t like being away from you. And trust me, if I never had to spend another day in Gotham, I’d be a happy man.” He tilted her chin up with a gentle hand until she would look at him again. “But I don’t want you to think that Atlantis is somewhere you can’t go. There are tons of places in Atlantis that are enchanted to be accessible to surface dwellers.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he grinned. “I want to bring you there sometime. I want you to see it.”

“I want that too.”

“I mean some of the people there can be stubborn shitheads sometimes.”

Darcy raised a challenging eyebrow. “I share DNA with Tony Stark. I can deal with stubborn shitheads.”

“You’ve clearly never met my brother,” he said with a chuckle.

“You have a brother?”

“Trust me, he’s not worth meeting,” Arthur assured her seriously. “The guy’s a prick. But I was thinking…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. It’s gonna sound dumb, but,” he hedged for a moment, “I kinda want you to meet my parents.”

Darcy’s eyebrows hit her hairline. “That’s not dumb at all, Arthur. I’d love to meet them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged again, “I mean, you pretty much know my whole family. Except for Jane. Who, by the way, is gonna be pissed that she just missed you.”

“If she’s important to you, then she’s important to me.”

“And that same reasoning is exactly why I can’t wait to meet your parents.”

“I can dig that,” Arthur grinned.

“So to sum up,” Darcy said seriously, “you get to show me Atlantis, we get to spend more time together, and I get to meet your parents.”

“And I have to meet Jane.”

“And you have to meet Jane.”

“Looks like we’re on the same page,” Arthur kissed her forehead and squeezed her tighter. “I like this.”

“You like what?” Darcy’s question was muffled into his chest with the way he was holding her.

“Communicating. It’s pretty fun.”

Darcy pushed away enough that she could see his face again. “I’m glad you feel that way. It’s novel.”

“Novel?” he asked, quirking up an eyebrow.

She huffed through her nose. “Not all my exes would agree with you that communication is fun.”

“And that, babe, is why they’re exes,” he laughed, rolling on top of her, pinning her hips between his knees. “But if there’s any asses you’d like me to kick for past transgressions, I’d be more than happy to help.”

“I appreciate the offer,” she giggled.

Arthur reached for her hands and threaded their fingers together, pressing them against the pillows beside her head. “Any man who could be with you and do something to lose you is clearly unstable.”

“Clearly.”

“I mean these tits alone are reason enough to worship your every move.”

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.” But her complaints were cut short a moment later when he ducked down and caught one pink nipple with his mouth. His beard tickled her skin, raising goosebumps down her arms and legs. 

Their second round was much sweeter and slower than the first. Every kiss was sure and deliberate, and every stroke was less desperate and more intentional. The way Arthur cradled the side of her face and pressed his forehead to hers as he drove into her, Darcy could only describe as making love. But the thought of that phrase did funny things to the feeling behind her sternum. And afterward, Arthur pulled her back against his chest in the way he liked to do, their feet tangled together beneath the sheets.

She had come to discover that he was a very tactile sleeper. He would often fall asleep wrapped completely around her. It was something she hadn’t always enjoyed with previous lovers when she would wake up sweaty and feeling suffocated by body heat. But interestingly, with Arthur, she never experienced that. She chalked it up to his aquatic biology, and some innate ability to adapt his body temperature to his surroundings.

Whatever it was, Darcy appreciated it. She knew that a huge part of it came from their soulmate instincts, and another large part of it came from the fact that he was literally a genetically advanced super being, but she felt safe and content in his arms in a way she couldn’t remember ever feeling before. 

The time and distance apart was something they could figure out, but opening up and letting each other into larger parts of their lives seemed like a good place to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Elements of this chapter inspired by this GIF.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Fluff Town people. Better make a dentist appointment now, because this chapter is guaranteed to rot some teeth. I couldn’t help myself. Blame Arthur and Darcy, they kept just being so damn cute. 
> 
> There is a little angstiness in here, but don’t worry too much, my dears ;)

The next morning, they started planning a trip to go visit Arthur’s parents in Amnesty Bay on the coast of Maine. He could spare a few days until he had to return to Atlantis, and it seemed like as good a time as any other. Tony offered to let them use his private jet, but they opted to drive the nearly nine hours and ended up borrowing one of Tony’s more practical SUVs instead.

Darcy discovered that Arthur liked to sing along with the radio (badly) as he drove and that he definitely considered speed limits to be more of a gentle suggestion (“You’re gonna kill us.” “Superhuman reflexes, babe. Would I ever put you in danger?”). She also discovered that when it was her turn to drive, Arthur enjoyed keeping her entertained by playing road games like I Spy and Padiddle.

They finally pulled up to the house right around dinner time. The white clapboard house was quaint but looked perfectly cozy from the outside with it’s green shuttered windows, red shingled roof, and smoke rising from one of two chimneys. On the near side of the house was a porch that stretched across the front of the building, and on the far side stood the lighthouse tower that rose high into the pastel-painted sky above. Arthur parked beside a weather-worn pickup truck and several boats in various states of repair.

They got out of the SUV and Arthur unloaded their bags from the trunk. Darcy took a moment to appreciate the view. The sun was setting just beyond the rocky shore, and the smell of saltwater and brine was refreshing after the long hours cooped up in the car. Seagulls squawked loudly as they circled the dock that jutted out into the water beyond the lighthouse.

Arthur came to take her hand, both of their duffle bags slung easily on one shoulder, and she followed him up the wooden steps of the porch. He knocked on the front door, and they waited a moment for it to be answered. Arthur was so excited. She could feel it in the way he gripped her hand a little tighter every time she looked at him. He was like a little boy showing off his favorite toys. It made the words bubble up in her throat before she even thought it through completely.

“I love you.”

Arthur’s bright eyes went wide as he processed what she had just said.

“I...You love--” but the rest of whatever he was planning to say was cut off by the front door opening then. 

“Arthur!” exclaimed the man in the doorway. “Come in, come in, you two.” He was a few inches shorter than Arthur with a wider nose and thinning hair, but Darcy could easily see the resemblance between father and son in the high arch of his eyebrows and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. He wore a green flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and as he reached out to pull Arthur into a hug she noticed that the backs of his hands and forearms bore a familiar shark tooth pattern.

“Dad, hey!” Arthur returned the embrace enthusiastically, clapping his father on the back. When they separated, he placed a hand at the small of Darcy’s back as if to show her off. “Dad, this is Darcy.”

“Hi Darcy, I’m Tom,” he smiled, taking both her hands in his and leaning forward to press his forehead against hers briefly. Darcy knew the gesture as something Arthur did all the time, and she returned it happily.

A stunningly beautiful older woman appeared behind Tom then and he moved aside to make way for her in the entryway. Her silvery hair was pulled half up out of her face and her posture spoke of a regalness hidden behind an unassuming wardrobe of jeans, a blue and white pinstripe button-down, and bare feet. 

“Arthur, sweetheart,” she said, reaching up to frame his face with her delicate hands. Arthur leaned forward so that she could kiss his forehead in a way that looked practiced and instinctual.

“Hi mom,” Arthur said, grinning wide. 

Arthur’s mother returned the smile before her glance shifted to his side. “And you must be Darcy,” she said, reaching out to grasp Darcy’s hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. “It’s wonderful to meet you. Please call me Atlanna.”

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” Darcy said honestly. The first thing she had noticed was the genuine warmth that practically radiated from the tiny household. She couldn’t help but feel welcome.

A high pitched trilling sound came from further inside the house, and Atlanna held up a finger, “There’s the timer.” She turned to presumably go put an end to the sound.

“We better go eat then!” Tom said, clapping his hands together. “You two have good timing. You ever eaten lobster that was in the ocean this morning, Darcy?”

“I can’t say I have, Tom,” she admitted.

“Well then, you’re gonna love this.”

They fell in behind Arthur’s parents as they headed toward the kitchen and Darcy glanced up at Arthur to see that his smile was just as big as before. He looked back down at her, squeezed an arm around her shoulders, and pressed a smacking kiss to the top of her head.

The dinner was delicious. Darcy truly had never had seafood that incredibly fresh, which was enhanced by the fact that both Tom and Atlanna were wonderful cooks. After they finished eating they moved into the living room where Tom recounted stories about Arthur’s childhood that had Darcy laughing and Arthur groaning in embarrassment. 

That night she and Arthur curled up together in his childhood bedroom. They were somewhat cramped on the full mattress being that Arthur was basically a tank, and she was pretty sure his feet were hanging off the end of the bed, but she didn’t mind if he didn’t. And Darcy fell asleep under Arthur’s heavy arm, listening to the hypnotic rhythm of waves crashing against the rocks below.

The next morning after breakfast Atlanna suggested that they take a trip to a nearby farmer’s market. With Amnesty Bay being such a coastal community, there were just as many booths selling fresh oysters, clams, and crabs as there were the booths Darcy was used to seeing toting vegetables and locally sourced honey. One booth was selling tomatoes and peppers but at the end of their table, a young woman in a floral sundress and a wide-brimmed hat sat behind a display of handcrafted jewelry and trinkets made from colorful sea glass. 

They spent a lazy hour or so wandering around sampling and browsing the various booths. As lunchtime approached, Tom bought them all some containers of homemade crab salad and some fresh, crusty bread. They made their way over to the beach which was only a few minutes walk away. Atlanna spread out a woven blanket that she had packed in a tote, and Tom helped them set out the food, and the four of them enjoyed a delightful picnic lunch spread out on the sand. 

When they finished eating, while Tom and Atlanna stayed ensconced together on the blanket, taking in the lovely weather, Arthur and Darcy strolled down the beach a ways, hands linked and swinging slightly between them. After a while, Arthur stopped and turned to face her.

“Close your eyes,” he told her, smiling strangely. 

Darcy’s eyebrows scrunched together suspiciously, “Why?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed, “Stubborn-- Will you just do it?”

Darcy laughed at his adorable display of exasperation but complied anyway. She felt him take her wrist in his hands and there was a soft tugging on her bracelet for a moment before he let go again.

“Okay, you can look.” 

Darcy opened her eyes again and lifted her wrist to inspect it. There on her bracelet just next to the Vibranium charm from her father hung a small piece of green, wire-wrapped sea glass. With the way the light was filtering through it, the color mimicked the shade of Arthur’s eyes whenever he was happy. 

She pulled in a breath, “I love it.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows lifted in an eager smile.

“Arthur, it’s beautiful.”

“I just saw it and figured it could be something to make you think of me when I’m away.”

“I already think of you when you’re away. Like, constantly. Like an obnoxious amount,” she said with an overdramatic roll of her eyes. Arthur responded to her sarcasm by tackling her into the sand, a low growl rumbling in his chest, and Darcy yelped in surprise before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“But,” she continued once she could breathe again, “I love it and it’s perfect. Thank you.” She stretched up to kiss him firmly. 

“Good.”

They made their way back to Arthur’s parents and the rest of the day unraveled into a relaxed and fun afternoon. Darcy enjoyed watching the way Tom and Atlanna interacted with each other. It was so different from the way her mom and dad had been with each other. She didn’t have any memories to speak of from when they’d actually been together, but any of her memories of the two of them being in the same room were colored by childish goading from her dad and annoyance from her mom. And while her dad’s relationship with Pepper fell somewhere much closer to Tom and Atlanna’s, it was still interesting to see their dynamic knowing the trials that the universe had put them through to get to where they were now.

After dinner, when his parents decided to turn in early, Arthur asked if she wanted to grab a drink with him. He took her to a bar that was apparently a regular haunt for him and his father, called _Terry’s Sunken Galleon_. He greeted the bartender on the way in with a nod, then led Darcy over to a table in the corner.

The place was divey but still had a coziness that only small-town bars seemed able to achieve. It smelled like decades of stale alcohol and, like every place in Amnesty Bay, had that slight briney, vaguely mildewy scent that came from being within walking distance of the beach. The constancy of the clientele showed in the cracked leather seats of the stools and their corresponding spots at the bar, worn smooth from years and years of forearms leaning against it.

“You’re kidding,” Arthur scoffed, then took a drink of his dark beer. He knocked the glass mug heavily against the table when he set it back down.

“I swear to Thor!” Darcy promised vehemently leaning toward him across the table. “Their stormtroopers woke us up in the middle of the night, gave us five minutes to pack, shoved us in an SUV, and shipped us off to Norway.”

Arthur let out a hefty breath that puffed out his cheeks, “God, I hate S.H.I.E.L.D. They’re even more of an intrusive pain in the ass than Wayne.”

“Big mood,” she lifted a concurring eyebrow. “They didn’t even let us know that Thor was back on-world or that my dad was involved. We literally found out about it on the news. I’ve never seen Jane so pissed.”

“What about you?”

Darcy took a pull of her beer then sighed, “I’m used to finding out about my dad being self-destructive and irresponsible second or third hand. Doesn’t make me feel better about it necessarily,” she shrugged, “but at least I’ve learned to quell the shock a bit.”

Arthur shook his head incredulously. “Didn’t he give a terrorist organization his home address once?”

“Yeah.” That was far from one of her favorite memories. “I found out about that as I was packing to come home for the holidays that year. I panic-called Pepper and managed to find out that he was okay, but I was pissed.” She drew her finger through the ring of condensation left by her pint glass as she spoke. “And apparently, dad had been having me followed at a distance by a private security detail because of everything that was going on, but he failed to let me know about any of it. I only found _that_ out because Happy sucks at keeping secrets.”

“Holy shit,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling from deep in his throat. “Don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but you guys probably need therapy.”

“Tell me about it,” she agreed, then knocked back the last of her drink.

“Another round?” Arthur asked, finishing his beer at the same time.

“I’ll get ‘em,” she offered with a smile. He’d gotten the last round, so she figured it was only fair.

Darcy slid out of the booth and made her way over to the bar. She leaned her elbows against the well-worn wood top while she waited for the bartender to finish serving someone else before she ordered the drinks.

“You can put ‘em on my tab,” a gravelly voice to her left said.

Darcy glanced over at the owner of the voice. One of the locals, for sure, who was probably a decade her senior, wearing a fisherman’s sweater and about three day’s worth of stubble. He reeked of old booze and he was leering at her in a way that made her immediately uncomfortable. “Thanks, but no thanks dude,” she answered, pressing her lips together into a terse smile.

“No, I insist, sweetheart,” he reached forward to stroke a clammy hand against her shoulder, “It’s on me.”

Darcy immediately recoiled. “No, _I_ insist, bro. I got it.”

The man’s expression changed then. “Hey, lady,” he spat, “when someone’s being nice to you, you’re s’posed to be nice back.”

She was vibrating with adrenaline now, but like hell if she was going to back down. “And when someone says ‘no’ it means no. Fuck off, buddy.”

She glared at the asshole in front of her, but felt a familiar energy then, recognizing the weight of Arthur’s body at her side even before he spoke. “Everything okay?” he asked. Though it was clearly more of a warning than an actual question.

“Yeah,” the man barked, still staring her down. “This bitch just doesn’t have any fuckin’ manners.”

Darcy had never actually wondered what a two-hundred-pound fisherman sounded like when he fell, dead-weighted, to the floor, but she definitely knew now. Before she had even consciously registered the full scope of the insult the asshole had directed at her, Arthur’s fist had made contact with his jaw and knocked him out cold. 

The other few patrons in the bar went quiet, staring briefly at the scene, before gradually deciding that they didn’t want to get involved and resuming their own business. Arthur pulled a wad of cash out of his wallet and tossed it onto the bar. Darcy didn’t get a chance to count it all, but just at a glance she could guess that it covered the cost of their tab and more for the extra trouble. 

“Sorry, Sal.”

The bartender picked up the bills, tucked them into his apron without counting, and simply gave them a nod and a surprisingly unaffected “ _Mhmm._ ”

With a hand on her back, Arthur led Darcy out of the bar, and every step had Darcy’s blood boiling a little hotter. Once outside and nearly at the car, she whirled around to face him, unable to tamp down her anger any longer. 

“What in the name of Thor was that!?”

“I’m sorry. I know that was shitty.”

“Shitty? Arthur, you knocked that dude out!”

“He was harassing you! He called you a bitch! What was I supposed to do?”

“Are you serious?” Darcy balked, “Let me handle it! Believe it or not, that is not the first drunk asshole to harass me or call me a bitch, and I’m fairly positive he won’t be the last.”

“I love you,” he threw his arms wide, baring himself to her. “I just wanted to protect you, Darcy!” Her eyes went wide at his admission, but Arthur kept going, beginning to pace now. “And I know how chauvinistic that sounds. I know you can take care of yourself. I know that. But I just…” 

“Wait,” Darcy stopped him, closing her eyes and shaking her head. She was trying to fully grasp everything he’d just said, but she was a bit stuck on one particular part of it. “You love me?”

Arthur stopped his pacing and looked at her, “Of course I do.”

Darcy surged forward and grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him down into a kiss. It took him a second to shift gears from _arguing_ to _making out_ , but once he did he matched her fervor. His fingers threaded into her hair against her scalp, holding her steady as their mouths moved in unison. Her tongue brushed against his one last time before they pulled apart, panting.

Darcy took a measured breath before speaking again. “I live with superheroes. I get the _‘must protect the tiny humans’_ thing. I just want to believe that I can protect myself sometimes.”

“You can,” he tilted her chin up with his forefinger to meet her gaze, “I know you can, Darcy. I mean I’ve seen you train with Nat. You could have kicked that dude’s ass to Brooklyn and back. I should have let you. Him callin’ you that… it pissed me off so much I couldn’t think.” 

“Well,” she sighed heavily, “now that we’ve established that I definitely _could_ have taken that guy…” Darcy gave him a look, “...thank you for having my back.”

Arthur ignored her look in favor of wrapping both large arms around her shoulders and pulling her tightly against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve always got your back, taku whaiāipo. But next time I promise I’ll let you handle your own shit unless you ask me to help.”

“Deal,” Darcy agreed into his shirt, then pulled back so she could see him properly. “So you love me, huh?”

“I love you,” he confirmed with an incline of his head.

“Good,” she grinned. “I love you too.”

“Good,” Arthur grinned back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so amazing. Have I mentioned that recently? Because you guys are seriously amazing. Every kudos and comment makes my whole entire day <3

Darcy and Arthur spent two more days visiting with his parents. They spent their time swimming in the bay and hiking along the beaches, searching out tidepools during low tide. She was fascinated when he dipped a hand into one of the tidepools and the things living inside lit up with activity while his eyes flashed gold (Arthur swore up and down he wasn’t showing off but she knew it was bullshit). They found urchins, sea stars, snails, and mussels, all of them flurrying with energy at his presence.

Her favorite moment was after dinner on their last evening in Maine when Arthur took her up into the lighthouse so they could watch the sunset. She leaned her forearms against the railing with him behind her, tattooed arms bracketing her on either side and keeping her warm against the rapidly cooling spring air. The sun sunk into the outline of the small town to the soundtrack of gulls overhead and waves crashing into the shoreline at their backs. At some point, she got distracted by Arthur’s lips on her neck and they only resurfaced from each other when the blinding lamp came on behind them against the growing darkness.

Eventually, it was time for them to head back. Tom and Atlanna sent them off early in the morning with hugs and demands for Darcy to visit again soon. They took a slightly longer route back to New York so that they could stop in Cambridge to have lunch with Jane. 

Jane loved Arthur and gave Darcy her official seal of approval. Darcy sat back, dipping her fries into her strawberry milkshake while she witnessed Arthur making the rookie mistake of asking Jane what she was working on. Though she had to give him credit because he managed to seem engaged and interested the entire time as Jane rambled on for nearly thirty minutes about Newtonian escape velocity and the Schwarzschild radius. 

Not that what she was working on wasn’t interesting, but Jane occasionally forgot, in her passionate explanations, that she wasn’t talking to people with degrees in astrophysics. Darcy grinned and popped another fry into her mouth as she watched Arthur pretend to know what bipolar mass ejection was and why its directionality was obviously dependent on the rotation of the black hole in question.

They got back to the tower in time for dinner. Afterward, they made excuses about being tired from the long drive and Darcy spent the rest of the evening trying to convince Arthur to stay longer in New York (she tried to convince him on the couch, she tried to convince him on the kitchen counter, she tried to convince him in the shower...).

But when she woke up the next morning it was to empty sheets and a note on the nightstand.

 _Didn’t want to wake you. I’ll check in soon.  
Love you._

The angle of her arm on top of the covers and the angle of the sun streaming in through the windows met the sea glass on her wrist just right and threw green-gold spots of light against the wall. She laid in bed until the sun rose enough to put an end to the comforting light show.

At some point, however, Darcy managed to drag herself away from the sheets that still smelled like Arthur to actually get on with her day. By mid-morning she found herself knocking on Pepper’s office door (Darcy was, of course, one of the few people that Pepper’s secretary would let in without an appointment).

“Hey Pepp,” she peeked her head in the door first to make sure the other woman wasn’t on the phone or anything. “Are you busy? I brought caffeine.”

Pepper looked up from her computer with a smile and gestured for Darcy to come in. “Bless you,” she gave a happy sigh as she took the paper cup, cradling it in both hands. “And I can make some time, hun. What’s up?”

Darcy sprawled into the chair across from her. “Oh, you know,” she took a fortifying sip of her latte, “just trying to fit in all my existential crises before lunch these days.”

The older woman nodded, “Efficient.”

“Always.”

“But seriously, Darce. What’s on your mind?” 

Darcy had to give her all the credit in the world. Pepper always managed to see through the defensive Stark sarcasm and went straight to the root of the problem. “Did you and dad ever have trouble with the long-distance thing?” Darcy asked directly. “Like, I know he’s difficult for a myriad of reasons, but man-child tendencies aside,” Pepper snorted gracefully into her coffee at that, “was that ever an issue?”

Pepper set her cup down on the desk and swung her swivel-chair minutely side to side as she considered it her answer. “It was certainly tricky sometimes -- still can be. Obviously, I have to travel for the company and the foundation at least every couple of months, and your dad gets called out on missions. There are definitely times where we miss each other or get stuck on different wavelengths sometimes,” she shrugged. “And if either of us is gone for longer than a week or so, certainly the pull makes it all a lot harder.”

“Oof,” Darcy agreed over the lid of her coffee cup. “Big retweet on that shit.”

Pepper laughed a little and kept going, “But with Tony, it’s all about reconnecting. What’s made a big difference for us is having little routines that we can fall back on to sort of reset us when we’re out of sync. Family dinners, movie nights…”

“That makes sense.”

“It might take some getting used to, but it gets easier. You and Arthur have only known each other for, what, six weeks?” She continued when Darcy nodded, “You haven’t even had time to create any kind of routines together yet. Find the things that will help you guys reconnect when you are together. But there’s plenty of time to figure all of these things out.”

Darcy sighed heavily, “I know. See this is why I talk to you. You make things seem so much simpler than my brain is trying to tell me they are.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Pepper said with a smile.

* * *

It had been a relatively productive week. Darcy managed to catch up on all of the work she put off while she’d been in Maine with Arthur, and she’d gone back to working out with Nat fairly regularly and had the sore muscles to prove it. But eventually, when faced with a free afternoon and nothing else to distract herself from the pull that was creeping back up on her, she ended up in one of her favorite happy places -- the communal kitchen on the common floor.

Darcy was leaning against the counter, thumbing through one of her well-loved cookbooks, trying to decide what to make, when a sudden voice behind her startled her.

“Can you make more of those s’mores cookies?”

Darcy almost fell off of her barstool before recovering and noticing who had caused her coronary. “Goddamned ninja spies, I swear to Thor,” she smacked Bucky’s shoulder with the cookbook.

“Sorry, doll,” he smirked. He didn’t even have the decency to pretend that her mild attack affected him (like Steve would have).

“You and Nat both need to wear bells,” Darcy said, getting up and checking the cabinet to see if they had marshmallows and graham crackers. _Score!_ “S’mores cookies are a go.”

“Thanks, Darcy,” Bucky smiled at her and made to head off.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, sergeant,” she grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He looked back at her, then glanced at the door of the kitchen, “To work out with Steve and Sam?”

She took in his athletic shorts and hoodie, the running shoes, long hair pulled into a messy man-bun, and the water bottle clutched in his cybernetic hand. But she shook her head, “Nope. You make requests for baked goods, you help make the requested baked goods. This ain’t the Little Red Hen.”

“Is this payback for scaring you?” he asked, but Darcy just tilted her head. “Sam and Steve are kind of expecting me, doll.”

“Are you expecting a workout or are you expecting s’mores cookies?”

Bucky squinted his eyes and seemed to silently weigh his options for a moment, before setting his water bottle down on the edge of the counter and grabbing one of the extra aprons hanging on the hook by the fridge. “Alright Lewis, give me orders.”

“Good choice, sergeant.” She pointed across the counter, “Okay, grab that big bowl there. I’m gonna start measuring out dry ingredients. Can you get the eggs out of the fridge?”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am.”

An hour later Darcy was pulling the second batch of cookies out of the oven while Bucky was getting the third batch ready to go in.

“So this is where you’ve been this whole time,” Steve noted as he and Sam sauntered into the kitchen, sweaty and red-faced.

Sam crossed his arms, “What gives, man?”

Darcy removed her oven mitts, stacking them on top of each other on the counter. “Hey, the man requested cookies and I’m a master negotiator.”

Bucky wiped his hands off on his apron and shrugged, “It was cookies or meeting you guys.”

“Well, at least we know that your priorities are in the right place,” Sam granted, picking up a cookie from the batch sitting out on cooling racks.

“Not so fast, jerk!” Bucky smacked the cookie out of his grasp with one hand and caught it with the other. But he missed Steve who had swiped two cookies behind his back, taking a bite out of one and tossing the other to Sam who quickly stepped out of smacking distance. “Damnit, Stevie!” Bucky lunged to smack Steve’s ass instead but the blonde man didn’t seem to mind. 

Steve smirked as he sidled up to Bucky, stuffing the last bite of cookie into his mouth before wiping his hands off on Bucky’s apron. “You might’a caught that if you’d shown up to workout today, Buck.”

Sam laughed from his spot on the other side of the counter as he finished off his cookie too, “The assassin’s gettin’ rusty.”

“Hey, both of you, stop eating my cookies -- you can have some after dinner,” Darcy pointed at them accusingly. “And stop goading my sous chef. Hey FRIDAY?” They waited a moment for the Irish accented voice to respond, but it never came. Darcy’s eyebrows bunched together as she tried again, “FRIDAY?” 

Nothing.

“Is FRIDAY down?” Sam asked, staring at the ceiling in confusion.

Steve was equally confused. “Can FRIDAY be down? I didn’t realize that could happen.”

“It’s not supposed to,” she explained. “It’s happened once before with JARVIS when the tower was under attack. But that’s why we have a more low-tech alarm system in place as a failsafe. Motion sensors on the outside of the building can trigger it, and all of the security guards have access to trigger it, too.” She looked specifically at Bucky then, who had shifted almost immediately into fight-mode as soon as they realized something was amiss. “It’s unlikely we wouldn’t know if we were being physically attacked,” she assured them and she saw Bucky relax the tiniest bit. 

“Aliens?” Sam suggested. 

Bucky snorted at that.

“Hey,” Sam pointed at him, “we’ve fought aliens together on _multiple_ occasions. You and I both know aliens are _not_ an unrealistic possibility.”

“Yo, FRIDAY, girl, what’s happening?” Darcy tried again. 

Still nothing. 

“Bucky, keep an eye on the cookies in the oven. I’m gonna go find my dad and see what’s up.”

“I’m coming with you,” Steve announced. She gave him a look and he shrugged, “Just in case, Darce. If FRIDAY’s down it’s probably not a good thing.”

“Fine,” she reluctantly agreed. He had a point. Usually, the AI software being down spoke to bigger problems.

They headed off together, and once they got off the elevator Darcy could see her dad through the glass doors of his workshop, furiously typing away at a StarkPad with several holoscreens lit up around him.

Steve held his hand up to the reader to open the doors and she smiled her thanks before turning her focus back in front of her. “Dad!”

Tony didn’t look up, “Little busy here, Princess.”

“Did you know FRIDAY is down?”

“Yeah,” he finally glanced up, and gestured generally to the screens around him, “that’s what I’m busy with.”

“Oh,” she realized, coming to lean over his shoulder. “Are you just reworking the program or something?”

“No,” Tony made a frustrated sound. “These goddamn hackers.”

“Hackers?” Steve asked with concern. Tony seemed to notice him for the first time then.

“Yeah,” Tony rolled his eyes hard. “This punk-ass group of hackers got pissed about the last patent I filed for the AI software. Apparently, they were developing something similar at the same time but I filed first,” he shrugged. But glanced at Darcy when she _ahem_ 'd at him pointedly. “Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t steal their shit. It was honestly just a coincidence.”

“Okay, okay. I believe you,” she assured him, hands up. After all, her dad was petty but he would never intentionally steal someone else’s work and put his name on it.

“But,” Tony continued, “they’ve been retaliating by trying to hack into FRIDAY’s programming for weeks now. They got really close today, so I shut FRIDAY down so I could hold them off and try to strengthen some of her security coding.”

“Oh, shit,” Darcy’s eyebrows hit her hairline. “You need help?”

Tony shook his head. “Not right now. But maybe later we can brainstorm a bit on how to sandbag her firewalls.”

Steve cleared his throat from where he was still standing a few feet away. “So you guys don’t need me here then.”

“Nope, we’re good, gramps,” Tony gave him a thumbs up.

Steve nodded and turned around to head back out of the workshop. 

A thought occurred to Darcy then. “Steven Grant Rogers, if you go steal more cookies, I swear to Mew Mew you’ll regret it.”

Steve turned back to face her as the doors slid open behind him. The look on his face was pure All-American-Apple-Pie-Innocence, “Darcy, would I ever?” The innocent look quickly turned into a smirk as he left. 

“He’s a little shit, isn’t he?”

Darcy gave her dad A Look, “You say that like you’re not.”

“You’re grounded,” Tony narrowed his eyes.

“Funny,” she smirked. “If I’m grounded then you get no cookies after dinner.”

His eyes narrowed even further. “What kind of cookies?”

“S’mores cookies.”

“You’re ungrounded.”

“Uh-huh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another little interlude chapter. Plotty things are about to hit the fan.  
>   
>   
> Also, we get two GIFs on this chapter because we stan a superhero with refreshingly healthy parental relationships, and because I'm a sucker for big, burly, grown men showing healthy emotions and affection.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, my loves! So some shit hits the fan here. Trigger warning: there is some physical violence and especially some very threatening language used a little over halfway through the chapter. So if that’s something that may be uncomfortable or triggering for you, please proceed with the appropriate caution.

Darcy blinked hard against the early-afternoon sunlight. She’d spent the entire morning in meetings trying to work out the kinks with their latest project. The tech startup she worked for was developing a new app and they were having some major problems with the user interface. And to top it off her chest had been aching all day. Arthur had been away for almost a whole month and wasn’t able to leave Atlantis for at least another week. She was looking forward to going home and taking a long-ass nap to try and block everything out for a few hours.

Darcy’s phone vibrated in the pocket of her leggings. She pulled it out and checked the screen before answering with a smile.

“Hey, Pepp. What’s up?” she leaned her hips back against the side of the building, soaking in the late-spring sunshine.

“Hey, hun. I know you’re pretty slammed today, but I was just checking in to see if you were going to be free by dinnertime. Your dad’s requesting Indian food for tonight so I wanted to find out if I should order your usual.”

“Yeah, I actually just wrapped up for the day.”

“Oh good! Were you able to get all those issues with the project figured out?”

“A few of ‘em,” Darcy absently scuffed at a littered cigarette butt with the toe of her sneaker. “But the rest can be dealt with either at home or later this week, so I was able to dip. I was just about to call an Uber home.”

“Sounds good. See you in twenty?”

“See you in twenty.”

Darcy ended the call then pulled up the Uber app to call a car. She was just about to confirm her pickup location when she was startled by sudden movement and noise on the otherwise quiet side street. A minivan had pulled up to the curb across from where she stood next to the building. Its front passenger window was rolled down and the two people inside were arguing.

“I told you you missed the turn,” the man in the passenger seat sighed in exasperation. 

“It was a one-way street!” the driver shouted, hitting the steering wheel for emphasis. “I couldn’t turn down that street!”

The passenger rolled his eyes and gestured vaguely behind them, “You could have taken that alley.”

“I’m not driving down an alley in New York City, Kyle!”

Ah. Tourists. It also explained why two hipster-looking dudes were driving such a soccer mom type car -- probably a rental.

“Oh my god. Just ask!” The passenger (Kyle?) exclaimed, snatching the beanie he was wearing off his head in frustration and leaning forward until his forehead rested on the dashboard.

To be totally honest, the whole exchange sounded quite a bit like her arguments she’d had on many occasions with her dad. Darcy laughed to herself at the exchange.

“Excuse me, miss?” The driver leaned across the passenger’s back to peer apologetically at her. “How do we get to Washington Square Park from here?”

“It’s like six blocks north.”

The passenger sat up again, holding his hands up in irritation, “I told you you were driving the wrong direction. The GPS said--” he grabbed the driver’s phone out of its clip by the steering wheel and pointed at the screen.

“Enough about the damn GPS,” the driver groaned. “Ma’am, do you mind pointing us north?” The driver laughed a little and scratched self consciously at his beard. “I am all kinds of turned around.”

“No problem, dude.” She tucked her phone back into her pocket for the time being and walked over to the open window to point out the right streets to follow on the man’s GPS app. “So you’re gonna wanna drive up this way, then turn left on Broadway,” she indicated a route on the map, “not West Broadway. People mix them up all the time.”

“See,” said the driver pointedly at his friend, “I told you Stark’s kid would know how to get there.”

“Wait--” Darcy looked up from his phone, sudden panic gripping at her chest, to see the man behind the wheel now sneering at her. But before she’d even had time to react, the back door of the minivan was sliding open and a third pair of hands was wrestling her into the back of the vehicle. In her shock she dropped her bag, which fell open on the curb.

She didn’t go quietly. She screamed and kicked, but a second later Darcy felt a pinch in the side of her neck and within moments her arms and legs went limp and her vocal cords failed her. Before long her eyelids became too heavy to keep open.

* * *

Darcy was awoken by a loud _slam_ that sent shooting pain through her head and made her ears ring. Everything came flooding back to her and she realized immediately that she should definitely play asleep until she figured out a little more about her situation -- a survival skill that Nat had drilled her on a million times.

“What the fuck, Jason!?” An angry voice shouted, probably eight feet or so from where she was. Darcy recognized the voice as the passenger from the minivan. 

She also realized then that she was laying on something soft but her hands were bound in front of her. Whatever she was laying on smelled a little like stale laundry and cigarettes, but there was another scent in the air, a little like mildew. Between the fact that everything felt a bit like it was swaying side to side and the rumbling vibrations from somewhere below she gathered that she might be on a boat of some kind. 

“Shhh! You wanna fucking wake her up?” Another voice said in a forced whisper. Darcy recognized the driver’s voice then.

There was a pause and Darcy tried to breathe as steadily as possible to appear still asleep.

“She’s fine. She’s still passed out,” the first voice affirmed, but in a slightly more hushed tone than before.

“Then what’s your fuckin’ deal?”

“Tyler just told me what you were planning to do with her! I never signed up to kill anyone!”

Darcy tried not to flinch at that but it wasn’t exactly welcome news.

“What the hell did you think we were doing, Kyle? What did you think we needed your dad’s boat for?”

“I don’t know,” the first man hedged. There was definite fear in his voice. “I figured we were gonna grab her to fuck with Stark! Maybe knock her around a little.”

“And what? Just send her back after she’s seen our faces? You realize if we did that, we’d be going straight to prison, right?”

“And what the fuck do they do to murderers, Jason?” Kyle practically shouted but then seemed to get his volume under control again. “Last time I checked they go to prison too!”

“Why do you think we’re dumping her body this far out? If they can’t find her, they can’t connect us to it.”

“I thought we were just sending a message to Stark!” Darcy heard him start to pace back and forth.

“You can’t just ‘send a message’ to a guy as powerful as Stark! With his money and his lawyers? Are you kidding me?” Jason laughed sardonically. “No, he took away our chance at millions of dollars with that patent shit. We’re taking something away from him he can’t replace no matter how much money he has.”

Another _slam_ , which Darcy now realized was the sound of a door opening, then a third slightly lower voice said, “Can you two stop fighting?” An exasperated sigh, then, “Kyle, I need you in the helm.”

“Ugh, fine,” Kyle groaned. Darcy heard the sound of two sets of footsteps leaving the room and the door slammed shut.

Another irritated sigh, then after a beat she heard what sounded like typing.

She blinked an eye half open for a second and winced at the bright light. From the layout of the room, she guessed this was the captain’s quarters. It was a bit cramped but equipped with a small kitchenette and a dining nook where the man was currently sitting, angled away from her, typing away at his laptop. Clearly, these people weren’t into cleaning up after themselves. Empty beer cans and liquor bottles sat scattered around the room, and there was a grease-soaked box of abandoned pizza crusts sitting open on the counter of the kitchenette. She was sprawled out on a cot tucked into the corner of the room, and other than some residual grogginess and a hangover-like headache leftover from whatever they’d dosed her with she felt physically fine.

Her hands were zip-tied in front of her. She laughed internally -- big mistake on them -- that was a scenario she’d been through with Nat at least a dozen times. She glanced back over at the man (Jason?) sitting at the desk, still angled away from her (his second mistake), and typing away at what looked like lines of code. 

Darcy slowly and quietly pulled her knees up until she could reach her sneakers to untie the laces. She looped one lace through the zip ties around her wrists, then knotted the ends of the lace with another. She glanced again at the man sitting across the room. Between the rumble of the engines beneath them and the sound of him clacking away at his keyboard, she hoped it would be enough to cover what she was about to do. 

She sat up carefully and leaned against the wall so she could lift her feet and pedal them back and forth. Eventually, the friction was enough to break through the zip ties and her wrists were free. Darcy tossed the broken pieces of zip tie to the side, unknotted her laces, and retied them.

She looked around the room then, this time trying to gauge an escape route, trying to remember everything she’d learned from Nat. The first thing she did was check her pockets on the off chance they had forgotten to take her phone. But no — they apparently weren’t that stupid.

There was no chance of her being able to leave the room without the man at the table noticing her. He was facing away from her now, but he was angled straight toward the only door she could see. The only natural light in the room came from a small porthole behind her. It _might_ have been big enough for her to squeeze through, but the steel bolts all around the edge made it clear enough that it wasn’t about to open. 

The next option was taking him out to get out of the room. There wasn’t anything near enough to her that she could use as a distance weapon and the only things she could see as potential weapons were the glass bottles of booze littered around the place. But even those were far enough away that she would risk him noticing before she was able to grab one.

The only other thing she could think of was a chokehold. In theory, it would work, and it helped that he was wearing a collared shirt. Darcy took a moment to remember the hand positions Nat had taught her and silently rehearsed the movement with her arms. She took a deep breath and silently let it out, then moved carefully off of the cot, trying to anticipate any squeaking of springs. Once standing, she paused to make sure the man hadn’t noticed anything, then took the few small steps until she was standing directly behind him.

Darcy squeezed her eyes tightly shut and steeled her nerve, then went for it. 

One arm snaked beneath his armpit and grabbed the edge of his collar, pulling down tightly, as the other arm wrapped around the front of his neck until she could grab the opposite side of his collar with that hand too. He immediately gasped and began flailing, knocking the laptop away from him in a panic where it skidded off the opposite side of the table and onto the floor. Luckily she had been prepared for him to react, but she knew that he had probably fifty or sixty pounds and at least seven inches of height on her. Her next move had to happen fast to lock the chokehold in place. She quickly tucked her first arm further forward until his armpit was nestled in the crook of her elbow, letting go of her grip on his shirt with that hand to bring it up and lock it behind his head.

The man grunted and choked out, “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Darcy knew she only had to hold him for thirty seconds tops before he would likely pass out, but he was putting up a hell of a fight, scratching and clawing at the arm around his throat -- she was pretty certain he was drawing blood. She squeezed tighter, and he gasped again. His free arm failed around the table blindly until his fingers closed around a heavy glass ashtray which he swung up violently, succeeding in smashing it against her temple. 

The sudden shock of the hit caused her grip to falter as stars exploded in front of her eyes and that was all the opportunity he needed. He launched them both backward away from the table and they hit the ground hard. The back of Darcy’s head cracked against the floor and she felt like she might throw up. 

Before she could react again, he was on top of her, straddling her hips and hands going straight to her throat. 

“I’m gonna kill you, bitch,” the smell of sour tobacco rolled off his breath and into her face. “And your piece of shit daddy won’t even be able to find your body way out here.” 

Again, with their size difference, Darcy knew she was at a disadvantage. Pushing her neck against the floor, she could already feel the blood pressure building behind her eyes at the lack of air, but she forced herself to stay calm.

Darcy grabbed his wrist and used her other hand to grip the back of his elbow. Her foot wrapped around the outside of his calf and she planted her free foot against the floor. She heard Nat’s voice in her head yelling at her to keep her elbow down and use her foot instead of her shoulders to leverage them over, and she was able to roll them hard enough to land on top of him. She reached for anything at all, the first thing her fingers closed around being his fallen laptop, which she grasped in both hands and used to strike him across the face. Immediately, his whole body went limp and she let out a relieved sob.

Darcy rolled off of him and flopped gracelessly to the floor, chest heaving as her breathing leveled out. She closed her eyes and suddenly felt a wave of dizziness and nausea hit her. Darcy had to lean up and over quickly as her stomach pulled an exorcist, but of course, the sudden movement, and the lurching of the ship made everything worse, and she retched again. 

As soon as there was nothing left in her stomach Darcy pulled herself up to her knees and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. That didn’t bode well. She knew a blow to the head plus vomiting most likely equaled a concussion, and when she touched her fingers tentatively to her temple they came away bloody. There were also the bleeding scratches on her arm (which were mostly shallow -- only one of them looked deep enough to scar at all), but generally, the rest of her seemed fine.

She thought the engines were probably loud enough to cover the sound of the fight, but she couldn’t be sure. Getting out of there fast was her first concern and making sure they couldn’t follow her was the second. Darcy looked around the room again as a plan started to take shape.

“This is probably the worst idea I’ve ever had,” she muttered to herself as she stood up. She had to grab the counter as pain throbbed behind her eyes at the shift and another wave of nausea threatened to take over. But it eventually passed and she was able to keep going.

There was a dirty dishrag tossed over the edge of the sink -- she grabbed that and a half-empty bottle of vodka that sat on the counter. She knew the last thing she needed would be around there somewhere but she didn’t see it on any of the open surfaces. Darcy groaned internally and dropped to her knees again. The man was still out cold but she was nervous to wake him if she wasn’t gentle enough. 

Cautiously, she patted down his pockets until she found what she was looking for. _Bingo!_ She reached into his front right pocket and pulled out a lime green lighter. In his back pocket she found her phone which she turned on hopefully, but the icon in the corner immediately indicated that there was no service. They were obviously too far offshore. Darcy tucked her useless phone back into the pocket of her leggings.

Moving on, Darcy rolled up the dishrag as tightly as she could and stuffed one end of it into the open bottle of vodka then tipped the bottle upside down a few times until the rag had soaked up enough of the alcohol. She gave one last glance at the asshole spread out on the floor (she considered kicking him for good measure but she didn’t want him to wake up and give her away), then carefully opened the door. 

Beyond the door to the captain’s quarters was a narrow hallway with pipes running overhead and along the walls. To her right was an equally narrow staircase that obviously led up to the deck, and she could faintly hear the voices of the other two men on board. To her left was another door, the sign on which indicated that it was the crew quarters. Darcy walked a little further down the hallway passing two more doors until she found what she was looking for -- the engine room.

Darcy opened the door and the rumble of the engine turned into more of a dull roar. Without allowing herself to overthink it, she took the bottle in one hand and the lighter in the other, lit the end of the dishrag, waiting only until it had _just_ caught a solid flame, then chucked it into the engine room and slammed the door. She heard the initial crash of the bottle breaking and immediately took a few steps back down the hall for safety. That’s when she heard a much louder crash as the flame met the alcohol and then an even louder explosion as the Molotov cocktail did its job decimating the machinery inside. 

“What the fuck was that!?” she heard from above her.

“Shit! Must have been the engine, I’m getting nothing here!”

Damnit. 

She hadn’t thought through this next part. The other men would be coming to check out what was wrong and she couldn’t let them find her. Darcy was fairly certain she couldn’t take on another physical fight with a bad concussion. Especially not if she was outnumbered.

“I’ll go check it out,” the lower-pitched voice said.

Shit, shit, shit. Darcy’s eyes landed on the crew quarters and she quickly ducked inside.

The crew quarters were possibly more gross than the captain’s quarters had been, with dirty laundry and beer cans strewn across the two cots and a side table. But she ignored that and plastered herself against the wall just inside the door to listen warily. Footsteps ambled down the stairs then down the hallway. She heard a door open, then slam shut again, and she became faintly aware of the smell of something burning.

“Holy fuck! Kyle, the whole engine room is on fire!” the deeper voice screamed.

“What the fuck!?” she heard the more muffled voice shout from above, then more panicked footsteps coming down the stairs. The sound of the same door opening and shutting quickly again. Now the smell of burning wood and oil was much stronger, and one or both of them coughed a few times. “How the hell did that happen!?”

“Jason!” Darcy heard both men stumbling down the hallway in her direction and she felt her heart trying to beat straight out of her chest. She could see tendrils of smoke curling through the edges of the door beside her now.

“Jason, the fucking engine’s on fire, man!” One of them coughed again and she heard the door to the captain’s quarters open.

“What the fuck, Jason!”

It was now or never. 

Darcy threw open the door and, through the haze of smoke, bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Behind her, she heard them simultaneously realize that she was gone and that she had slipped past them.

Up on deck, she ran toward the back end of the boat (the stern?). She had to assume that whatever direction the vessel was facing was the opposite direction they’d come from, and she didn’t have time to give it any more thought than that as the other two men came back up on deck at that moment. 

Darcy climbed up onto the edge of the boat, careful to avoid the propellers and trying to keep her precarious balance against the rocking of the waves.

“This is definitely the worst idea I’ve ever had,” she admitted out loud, then dove into the frigid water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> So much plotty stuff, omg! And self-rescuing damsels (my favorite kind)! I promise the next chapter will be coming fairly promptly. I know those cliffies are a little mean. My bad, guys.
> 
> But ALSO! Some possibly common sense (but easy to forget about if your guard is down) safety stuff because I love you: Never give people directions if there aren’t plenty of people around. Never give someone directions at night. Never EVER walk up to someone’s vehicle to give them directions. Be wary of people trying to show you a map (a physical map, or on their phone) because it can be a ruse to get you in close proximity. If you need to, point (literally point from a distance) them in a general direction and keep going. And above all TRUST YOUR GUT!
> 
> Also, the thing with the shoelaces and zip ties is real! Go check out videos of people breaking out of zip ties with their shoelaces. It’s a really good safety/self-defense strategy to know!
> 
> Also, also, I don’t own a fishing boat. The last time I was on a fishing boat was on my seventh grade class science trip to Stone Lab on Lake Erie (aka, like 14 years ago). So my description of the layout of said fishing boat is all from Google University. Anybody who owns a fishing boat, don’t come at me plz, lol.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely apologize for the wait on this chapter. Full honesty, it’s been 90% done for like two weeks, but my work season just started last week, which has been a deluge of administration, choreography, teaching, and general start-of-season chaos. About half of the dance classes I’m teaching are via Zoom, and I’m trying REALLY hard not to hate teaching online again, but the switch to Zoom classes back in the spring was anything but fun and I think that left a really strong imprint on my psyche. So BIG solidarity vibes for anyone else using Zoom for most of their work.

Darcy wasn’t sure how long she had been swimming, but she was fairly certain it had been hours. Her adrenaline had begun to fade and as it did she began to notice how cold the water was. Her fingers and toes had gone numb long ago and her muscles were starting to struggle with the effort of staying afloat against the choppy waves. At least twice now, she had needed to stop and float on her back a while to rest her arms and legs. Though, when she picked up swimming again her muscles were even heavier as the lactic acid set in and stiffened her joints. 

Finally, she spotted something on the horizon. A tiny yellow dot at first, but as she got closer she thought it might be a ship or a boat. Even closer still she realized it wasn’t a boat at all but some kind of large deep-water buoy. She wasn’t about to be picky. She was almost there -- fifty yards away maybe. But her muscles were beginning to finally give out as the exhaustion took over. 

Darcy slipped beneath the surface of the water, only for a moment, and taking in a large mouthful of water. She came up coughing and sputtering. _No!_ She was _not_ going to give up now. Not after fighting her way off that boat and swimming as far as she had. She forced herself to keep going. One arm then the other, focusing only on the yellow object beyond her. She wasn’t sure how much water she had swallowed by now, trying to keep up with her breathing, but her throat and lungs were burning with the effort. Darcy swam around two-thirds of the buoy before she came to a small set of rungs built into the side, leading from the water up to the top of the flat top of the thing.

Numb, wrinkled fingers gripped the lowest rung for dear life as she realized her next issue. The cold and exertion had tapped out nearly all of her strength. Her muscles were stiffening by the second in the freezing water and her joints felt like they had been filled with concrete. How in the hell was she going to be able to hoist herself all the way to the top?

Darcy closed her eyes against the tears that started to well up. What fucking irony. Her soulmate was literally a sea king, and yet the ocean was going to be her undoing. She thought then what Arthur would think if this is the way she died. He wouldn’t be judgemental of her tiny human body being no match for the indomitable sea. But he would feel guilty, however misplaced. She knew he would somehow blame himself for not being able to protect her from this thing that was such a part of him. The stubborn, wonderful man.

She thought of her dad next. If this was it for her, her dad would never forgive himself. He tried so hard to protect her from his enemies. Even before Iron Man, there were people shining a target on his family -- organizations out to get them simply because of his name and legacy. Sometimes even enemies disguised as friends, like Obadiah Stane. Finding out about Uncle Obi was a crushing blow, not only to Tony but to Darcy too. If Darcy died as a result of someone trying to get to Tony, she was fairly certain he would never recover.

She had to keep fighting.

Darcy blinked away the tears in her eyes and channeled Nat’s voice into her mind. 

_You can do this котик._

She took a deep breath and gripped the bottom rung tighter, before hoisting herself up to grab the next one. Her muscles were burning and her shoulders were leaden and weak. Up another rung, and she cried out, hooking her elbow around it so she wouldn’t slip back into the ocean below.

_Come on котик. Only two more to go. You can do two more._

Somehow she managed it, just barely forcing her wasted body up onto the platform without screaming aloud. Darcy lay there, breathing heavily as she dripped onto the bright yellow metal of the buoy, arms and legs akimbo. Finally out of the freezing water, the sun beating down on her felt like heaven. She closed her eyes and let the warmth seep into her icy fingers and toes. The longer her eyes stayed shut the more she felt the drag of exhaustion until she just couldn’t fight it anymore.

Her sleep was heavy and dreamless. When Darcy’s eyes peeked open next she realized she must have been asleep for at least a couple of hours as the sun was nearly down, her clothes were dry, and her mouth and throat were parched. She was able enough to roll over and cough, but her body was still drained and listless. The saltwater lapping around the edge of the buoy teased her dry tongue as she coughed again. She rested her head on her arm, and with her other hand, she toyed with the thin chain around her wrist. Darcy twisted the green sea glass charm this way and that, twining it and untwining it from the silver charm beside it.

At least, she figured if she didn’t make it, they would be able to locate her body. There was no telling how far out from shore she was but the GPS device her dad had built into the tiny piece of jewelry would ensure closure from everyone she might leave behind. If they didn’t find her in time at least they could have a real funeral. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, if only so that she didn’t dehydrate herself any further.

She knew it was a bad idea to give in to her fatigue with what was almost definitely a concussion, but after a while, she just couldn’t fight it. This time when Darcy passed out she dreamt. Her dreams were colorful and fast-changing, and at the center of them was a woman in white. It took her a moment to realize that the woman -- dressed in a skin-tight jumpsuit of iridescent scales -- was Arthur’s mother, Atlanna. 

Atlanna knelt over her, a warm smile spreading across her kind and beautiful face before she reached down to pull Darcy into her arms. A sense of ease immediately washed over her, and she realized how very safe she felt in Atlanna’s embrace. Her dreams continued, and now she was submerged in water that rushed past her like wind. This time it wasn’t uncomfortably cold, only cool, like a swimming pool on a hot summer day, and Darcy was amazed to find that she could breathe just fine. 

Eventually, the rushing of the water made her dizzy and she had to shut her eyes against it. She was surprised to still feel the water surging around her even trying to block it out in her dream state. But soon her awareness of it began to fade and her sleep turned black and dreamless again.

* * *

Darcy slowly became aware of a gentle beeping and the feeling of air lightly blowing into her nose. She flexed her fingers and felt soft material beneath them which gave her the confidence to try opening her eyes.

Once she did, she immediately recognized from her surroundings that she was in the medical wing of Stark Tower, and realized that the air blowing into her face was from a nasal cannula that tucked behind her ears. Her forearm, where it had been scratched open, was bandaged, as was the gash on her temple. A slight movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.

“You’re awake,” Atlanna said with a gentle smile. The blonde woman set the book that she had been reading onto the table beside her and shifted forward to the edge of her seat. 

“Did you…” Darcy began but quickly dissolved into a fit of coughing. Her throat was dry and scratchy, likely from swallowing so much seawater. Atlanna picked up a cup and straw from the table and tilted it so Darcy could take a long drag. She drank down at least half the cup then leaned back against the pillows again.

Darcy started again, “It was you that found me, right?”

“Yes.”

Darcy nodded. Her head felt heavy like it was full of concrete, and there was a throbbing pain behind her eyes. 

“Arthur found the wreckage of the ship you had been on, too. Those men won’t be coming after you again,” Atlanna’s tone was sure in a way that made Darcy positive she didn’t want to know any more details about that. “The doctors said you have a concussion and were severely dehydrated. But they’re taking care of that,” she nodded toward the IV line connected to Darcy’s arm.

“Thank you,” Darcy said before lapsing into silence. Her mind was racing in about a hundred directions and she resented all of them. “I hate feeling this way,” she didn’t even realize she’d said the last part aloud until Atlanna responded.

“What way is that?”

Darcy pulled in a shaky breath and stared down at her lap, searching for the right way to describe it. “Human, I guess. Tiny and weak.” She shook her head and shrugged defeatedly. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been attacked like this and it always makes me feel pathetic -- like some kind of damsel in distress.”

Atlanna took her hand and squeezed it gently, “You escaped.” Something in her tone -- almost like pride? -- made Darcy look up at her then, “There were three men on that ship, all much larger and likely physically stronger than you. And yet you managed to escape and down their ship. Then you swam more than three miles with a concussion,” Atlanna’s blue-gray eyes bored into hers. “That is anything but pathetic.” 

Darcy nodded again. Atlanna had a way of speaking that made people _want_ to believe her every word, and Darcy really had no reason other than her own insecurities to doubt what she was saying. 

“You are a strong person, Darcy. Being human does not make you weak. I’ve known so many men, human and Atlantean alike, maybe larger in size than you, but so much weaker in spirit and conviction.”

A noise at the door drew their attention. Arthur stood there, hair pulled up into a messy bun and an unreadable expression on his face.

“Darcy,” he sighed her name, the relief of seeing her awake apparent in his voice. He crossed the room at once, coming to stand beside his mother at her bedside, tucking a piece of hair behind Darcy’s ear then leaning down to press a kiss to her temple.

“Hey you,” she said smiling.

“I think I’ll go now,” Atlanna said, giving Darcy’s hand one last squeeze. “Be well, my dear.” She stood and gave Arthur a kiss on the cheek, then left, shutting the door quietly behind her.

“Have I mentioned that I really like your mom?”

Arthur took a seat in the chair Atlanna had just left, “I saw you gave those fuckers hell.”

“Thank Nat,” Darcy laughed, reaching for his hand and threading their fingers together. “She’s the one who taught me to kick ass and take names. And,” she added, “she’s the one who taught me how to make a Molotov cocktail.”

“I’m proud of you, taku whaiāipo,” he said, lifting their linked hands to kiss the back of hers.

“Hmm.”

“Oh trust me,” Arthur maintained, “I’m pissed as shit that you were attacked, but I’m proud of how you fought to get out of there, and I think I’d be more pissed about them taking you and hurting you if I hadn’t gotten some payback.”

“Your mom said something about you ‘taking care of them.’ I didn’t feel the need to ask more about that.”

“I won’t tell you if you don’t want to know,” he chuckled. “I saw a little of what you’d done when I found that boat. As I said, I’m really fucking proud of you, babe.”

“Well, I'm used to having a target on my back at this point,” she shrugged. “My dad’s not exactly subtle when it comes to making enemies.”

“I’m starting to see that,” Arthur chuckled again. “Maybe you should just come stay with me for a while.”

The way he said it was so casual but it took Darcy by surprise. Of course, they had talked about it weeks ago but they’d both been so busy that they hadn’t revisited the topic since getting back from Maine.

“In Atlantis?” She asked, eyebrows raised.

“Or Gotham.” Arthur leaned forward to rest his forearms against the edge of her bed. “Frankly having you there would make that shitty-ass city a little bit better.”

“I mean, I _have_ always wanted to meet Diana,” Darcy mused out loud. “But from what I’ve heard, you’ve got a few people out to get you as well, Your Majesty.”

“Stop that,” Arthur rolled his eyes.

She poked him playfully in the bicep, “Seriously though, Arthur, would the target on me be any smaller if I’m living with you in Atlantis? Or even Gotham?”

“Maybe…” he stared stubbornly at her until she shot him A Look and he broke their eye contact with a reluctant tilt of his head. “Okay, maybe not,” he admitted, “but I know I’d feel better knowing we’re not so far away from each other all the damn time. Clearly you can handle your own shit--”

“Damn right I can,” she sat up a little taller against her pillows.

“But,” he continued unphased, “you gotta understand that I want you to be safe. And that feels easier to be sure of when we’re with each other. Besides, I fucking miss you when I can’t be here.”

“Okay, I feel that. Long-distance sucks. And not just because of the pull,” Darcy took a deep breath, suddenly very grateful for the absence of pressure behind her sternum. “I miss you too. But I’ve got a job here, Arthur. What would I do about that? I’ve never been there, so correct me if I’m wrong, but Atlantis doesn’t exactly have internet.”

“You’ve got that big app launch coming up, right?” He lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

Darcy made a face, curious to see where he was going with this.“I mean, yeah. But that’s exactly why I can’t take time off right now.”

“What about after the launch? I’m assuming things should slow down for a bit. Maybe even enough that you could take a week or two off?”

Darcy thought for a second before replying. “Ya’ know, you may actually have a point there.”

“I know I do. I think you underestimate how good I am at negotiations. But hey,” he gestured to himself smugly, “King.”

She rolled her eyes, “Shut up and kiss me, Your Royal Hunkiness.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Also, pray/think good thoughts/send positive intentions through the universe/etc for me, because I had almost 2 minutes of a 3 minute-long piece of choreography done already and ready to teach, and now I’m second-guessing ALL of it and I think I want to change the entire piece, including the song… and I have to start teaching this choreography in like 36 hours. I’m apparently a masochist. Cross your fingers for me that this doesn’t end in a full emotional breakdown.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys. Remember that time I meant for this to be a one-shot? And then when I was like, “lol, it’ll just be a few chapters long.” That was cute. 
> 
> But here we are 11 chapters later. I’m pretty sure this is the second to last chapter, so we’re starting to wrap up. I wasn’t sure for most of this story whether or not we were gonna get a look at Atlantis. Honestly, the thought of writing that far into the DCEU (when the MCU is my comfort zone), as well as trying to illustrate a world that we’ve only had small glimpses of (even in the movies themselves) seemed overwhelming. But eventually, I realized that the plot was definitely taking us to Atlantis whether I liked it or not, lol. 
> 
> I made up a ton of science in this chapter, because “human being goes under the sea for like an entire week” is some shit that real science hasn’t figured out yet. Don’t look too hard at it? I did try my best to keep it from getting too cracky. But hey. What are comics at their core if not a little cracky? And let’s also be honest, the DCEU owns the crack side of their comics a little more than the MCU. *Shrug*
> 
> Also, lemons ahead ;)

After several weeks of testing and more time spent in the Stark Tower indoor pool than ever before, Tony had finally developed a fully functional scuba set that he was happy with. Though it hardly looked like any scuba gear that Darcy had ever seen before. 

Tony’s main concern in development had been how to supply oxygen without the need for heavy and cumbersome oxygen tanks. A problem which he solved by creating a device that was able to extract oxygen from water and release carbon dioxide back into the water, essentially just like gills. The breathing apparatus looked a little like a medical oxygen mask that covered both the mouth and nose and had a thin tube that ran around to a slim pack, no bigger than her hand, that she wore on her back which contained the oxygen extraction device.

Of course, there were other issues to address about her visiting Atlantis for an extended period of time. Tony had also developed a set of contacts outfitted with her regular prescription that would keep her eyes from being irritated from the saltwater and allow her to see clearly without the need for bulky, watertight goggles. 

Between Tony, Atlanna, and Arthur they had come up with every potential problem and figured out solutions for them. Things like calculating the longest amount of time Darcy could remain constantly submerged in saltwater before experiencing any negative physical side effects, and how long she could be underwater in any capacity before experiencing vitamin D deficiency. 

Finally, they all seemed satisfied with the provisions in place, and the day following her company’s app launch party they left for Atlantis. Her boss had agreed to her taking the next week off -- especially after Darcy had gone out of her way to make sure that the other people on her development team were prepared to take care of any issue that might arise in her absence.

Atlantis was truly breathtaking. They entered through the main gates of the city and Darcy was vaguely reminded of the Rainbow Bridge entrance to the kingdom of Asgard. Once inside the city their small ship (Darcy thought it looked a lot like the deep-water submersibles from _Titantic_ but much sleeker and prettier) was met by a royal escort that led them the rest of the way to the palace. She found herself marveling at the beauty of the capital and the way that the crumbling, algae-covered stonework of the old city contrasted with the sleek lines of the new city, all lit by bioluminescent towers and lines that edged the architecture.

As Arthur and Atlanna had assured her, there were plenty of spaces, protected by Atlantean magic, where she could go without needing equipment to breathe. The highborn Atlanteans had the genetic ability to breathe in both air and water, and thus had various rooms within the palace that were completely dry. It seemed that the main areas of the palace were all underwater where the majority of the Atlantean population could travel or congregate, but there were secondary spaces reserved for highborn Atlanteans and surface dwellers -- a slightly smaller receiving room just off of the grand throne room; a more informal dining room next to the ceremonial banquet hall.

Arthur’s private quarters -- which included a sitting room, bathroom, and bedroom -- were also among those dry spaces. (“I can’t fucking sleep without normal gravity.”) Darcy was somewhat relieved to find that his bedroom was set up like a traditional bedroom, although the bed frame was an obnoxiously ornate silver thing shaped a bit like a conch shell. The first time she saw it she couldn’t help but start into the chorus of _Under The Sea_. At least, until Arthur tackled her onto the bed and decided to show her the literal meaning of _“everything’s better, down where it’s wetter.”_

Arthur was also clearly enjoying showing her around his other world. Their second night there he took her out to the edge of the city where there was a flourishing reef, with giant bluffs of stony corals alive with movement from swaying anemones and seagrasses. They sat on an outcropping of rock with Arthur behind her, strong arms wrapped around her middle, and watching the flurry of life amongst the reef for what seemed like hours. Fish in all colors of the rainbow darted through the coral. She was mesmerized by a large Green sea turtle gliding around the edge of the reef, occasionally biting at algae or plankton floating through the water.

The next morning found them cuddled up in bed together while Darcy tried to stall him getting up and leaving for a meeting with several advisers. She had her legs woven through his as she traced the tattoos on his shoulder with an absent fingertip. 

“I have to go,” Arthur insisted for what was probably the third time.

Darcy stuck out her lip, “Don’t.”

“I wish I didn’t have to,” he grumbled. “You know I’d much rather stay here.”

“But there are other benefits to staying here,” she grinned suggestively.

He lifted an eyebrow, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Darcy replied, sliding her hand lower to grip him firmly. 

Arthur groaned and closed his eyes, head falling back against the pillows. It only took a few strokes before he was hard and ready. Darcy scooted down the bed and pulled her hair to the side. 

“I’m gonna be late,” Arthur reminded her weakly.

“You’re the king. They can wait on you,” she assured him before lowering down to take his cock into her mouth. After that, Arthur’s protests all seemed to vanish.

She alternated working him over with deliberate strokes of her tongue, then wrapping her lips around his cock until the head of it nudged the back of her throat. One hand worked the base of his shaft as she sucked and licked at him, and the other held him in place by his hip, fingers digging gently into his patterned flesh. 

“Darcy!” he panted, reaching down to tangle his fingers into her hair.

That only served to spur her on. She loved the little sounds that he made -- the groans and rumbles deep in his chest. It was so satisfying to see the way that she could unravel this strong, imposing, commanding man with only a few moves. After several minutes more he was melting before her, his breaths coming shorter and shallower, and his grip on her hair becoming tighter.

“Babe, I’m gonna…” he stuttered out as a warning before his muscles tightened up and he was coming into her mouth, hot and wet. 

She swallowed it all down then grinned up at Arthur who looked absolutely wrecked. His golden-tipped curls were fanned out on the pillows and his chest heaved as he caught his breath.

“Holy shit, Darcy,” he breathed out, tugging her up his body until they were face to face once more. 

His fingers gripped her chin and pulled her into a searing kiss. Darcy heard a desperate sound slip from her own throat as their mouths worked together and that’s when she realized just how aroused she was from getting him off. It didn’t escape Arthur though, as he was already working a hand into her underwear and he groaned when he felt how wet she was.

“I can’t leave you like this,” he slid his fingers through her soaked folds, making her jump when he brushed against her clit.

“But you’re gonna be late,” her protests sounded just as feeble as his had.

Arthur leaned in. “I’m the king, they can wait on me,” he whispered low and rough in her ear before nipping at the corner of her jaw. Suddenly though, he pulled back and sat up. “Hands and knees, babe.”

A delicious shiver ran down her spine in anticipation and she quickly moved to comply, flipping over and pushing her ass back toward him. Arthur dragged her panties off her hips and down her thighs and she lifted one knee then the other to help him get them all the way off of her legs. 

Once that was done, he tapped the inside of her thighs to get her to widen her knees, which she did happily. Arthur knelt behind her, running his hands over the curves of her ass. She felt him pressing scratchy kisses to the back of her thigh as he slowly got closer to where she needed him. Darcy figured it was a good thing they were surrounded by so much water since she was fairly certain she might combust from the sheer anticipation.

Finally, his mouth descended on her cunt. He began lapping at her and Darcy’s arms shook beneath her enough that she had to drop to her forearms. Ultimately, it was better, pushing her ass even higher and giving Arthur a better angle at her clit. A fact which he immediately took advantage of, circling the tiny bud with his tongue until she was burying her moans into the mattress. 

“Let me hear you, babe,” he ordered, then doubled down his efforts which made it impossible for her to do anything but what he asked. 

She turned her head to the side so he could hear every gasp and whine that left her. 

“That’s it,” he encouraged, shifting behind her. 

She peeked back to see him kneeling up on his knees and a moment later he was pressing a finger into her. It was perfect. She closed her eyes as he pistoned in and out of her and she felt her orgasm beginning to build. He soon added a second finger and then a third, and before long Darcy was crying out as her orgasm came crashing down around her.

Arthur pulled his fingers from her and she dropped her hips back down to the bed, completely spent. She watched as Arthur licked his fingers clean and an aftershock shot through her at the sight. He got up off the bed then and crossed the room to disappear into his closet. A minute later he emerged again, this time dressed in casual Atlantean garb.

When they’d arrived there had been a whole wardrobe’s worth of clothing waiting for her, sectioned off in his closet and primarily consisting of figure-hugging jumpsuits like the one she had seen Atlanna wear, but in a multitude of colors. They were not only the fashion that most Atlanteans wore but they were also practical, being hydrodynamic in design as well as insulated against the cold deep-ocean temperatures. Darcy was even thrilled and slightly amused to learn that Arthur often wore similar armored clothing when he was operating in official political or ceremonial business. (“Are you gonna stop staring at my ass anytime soon, babe?” “Not as long as you’re wearing that.”)

“Okay, I’ve actually got to go now,” Arthur said, coming over to kiss her soundly and successfully dodging her lighthearted attempts to pull him back down onto the bed with her. 

“I’ll see you later?” she sat up. 

He nodded and brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “I’ll come meet you for lunch,” he promised. “Love you, babe.”

“Love you too.”

After Arthur left for his meetings Darcy lazed around for a little longer in bed. Eventually, however, she supposed it was time for her to get up and ready. 

Darcy got out of bed and went to the closet, skimming through her options before settling on a plum-colored jumpsuit. She could definitely get behind the Atlantean fashion trends. It was a little like wearing leggings and athleisure wear all day, every day.

Once dressed, Darcy pulled her hair into a ponytail (there was no point in styling it any other way when she was just about to be submerged in saltwater), and put in her specialized contacts. Then she strapped the pack that held her oxygen extractor onto her back and put on the breathing mask, adjusting it until it comfortably covered her mouth and nose.

Arthur was meeting her later after getting through with the “political shit” (as he put it) that he had to deal with, but until then she wanted to spend some time exploring the palace. She opened the door to Arthur’s quarters and behind it the entryway into the main corridor appeared like a wall of water, shimmering and undulating in place. Still amazed by the Atlantean technology-slash-magic that separated the various areas of the kingdom, and that kept the water from spilling in, Darcy stepped through and immediately felt the lift of the water surrounding her. Shifting from one to the other was a strange feeling that she wasn’t sure she would ever really get used to.

Darcy swam down the hallway, occasionally passing a few Atlanteans who cast her sidelong glances. She knew from Arthur that Atlanteans could be very stubborn and bullheaded in accepting new things and notions, and she also realized that many of them considered her to be a very new notion. While nearly all of the citizens she had personally met so far were perfectly kind to her, others were still not entirely on board with their king being half-human, and now they were contending with the fact that their half-human king’s soulmate was fully human.

Judgment she could live with. Her father was Tony Stark, after all. She passed three Atlanteans then, all wearing colorful scaled suits similar to hers. One of them, whose wrists proudly displayed cuffs encrusted with dozens of pearls, smirked not so subtly behind his hand and leaned closer to his friends to whisper something. Darcy threw him a mock salute to let him know she hadn’t missed the impolite move, and to her satisfaction, he looked slightly chastened at being caught.

She rolled her eyes at the encounter and kept on a while until her attention was taken by a smaller hallway that branched off to the right. Like most main corridors in the palace, the entrance was flanked on either side by royal Men-Of-War guards. Arthur had told her that she had free reign to go anywhere in the palace that she wanted, and additionally, she figured that if there really was somewhere she wasn’t allowed to go, the guards would let her know. She continued swimming forward and the Men-Of-War made no move to stop her so she shrugged internally and kept going. 

The doorway led into another hallway, narrower than the one she’d just left. It was dimmer too, with the main source of light coming from bioluminescent tracks at the base of the walls. After a while, the plain walls were interrupted by what looked like large windows alternating on either side of the corridor. Each window glowed around the edges and looked into what seemed to be sparse living quarters, lit only slightly brighter than the hallway itself and containing a bed and table but little else. 

Darcy realized suddenly that this must be some kind of cellblock.

“You’re not Atlantean.” 

The voice came from behind her, and the startled gasp she let out sent a cloud of bubbles into the water around her from the machine on her back. That’s when she noticed who had spoken. The man swam nearer to her but was obviously captive behind the window - which seemed to hum and vibrate as he got close as if it was charged with some kind of energy field. Darcy briefly wondered what would happen if she tried to touch it. 

The man’s gray jumpsuit was similar to the kind most Atlantean men wore, although looser in cut it still showed off his muscular build. He looked to be nearly as tall as Arthur and had a similar sort of intimidating presence, which was only increased by the sharpness of his white-blonde hair and a chiseled jawline partially obscured by stubble.

“You’re Arthur’s soulmate aren’t you?” he asked with a tilt of his chin. “I’d heard that you were here. As if it’s not bad enough that my half-breed brother sits on my throne, of course, his soulmate _would_ be surface scum.”

“Oh, that’s a fun nickname. I should get that tattooed somewhere,” Darcy crossed her arms, floating in place. “I’m assuming you must be Orm.”

“Ah, so he’s mentioned me,” Orm said smugly.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” her tone was dry as dust, “Arthur certainly hasn’t.”

“Hmm.” Orm’s gaze raked over her, making her cringe. “That technology seems more graceful than what I’ve seen from the surface before,” he nodded toward her breathing equipment. “Their divers and pillagers always seem to have the most unwieldy equipment to breathe this deep.”

Darcy hesitated, considering whether or not to actually engage him on it, but after a moment she gave in. There was something about him that made her curious to understand him better. “My dad’s an inventor. Creating graceful technology is kind of his thing.”

“I wasn’t aware that surface dwellers knew how to create instead of destroying.”

“Well, yeah. Late-stage capitalism has a certain unique ability to destroy everything it touches -- especially the environment. I’ll give you that.” 

“And here I thought you humans were all entirely ignorant of your effects on the ocean.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow, “You’ve clearly never heard of Greta Thunberg.”

“Tell me,” he paused as if realizing for the first time that he didn’t know her name.

“Darcy,” she filled in.

“Darcy. Thank you,” Orm nodded. “Tell me, Darcy, how is my brother handling the pressures of leadership? He never seemed the type to enjoy such a position of responsibility.”

“He’s actually kind of great at it.”

“Hmm,” Orm said again. That didn’t seem to be the answer he had been looking for.

“I think you’re right that it’s something he never really wanted,” she admitted, “but sometimes the universe guides us to things we’d never have considered on our own. Shouldn’t you be glad that he’s a good leader? Your people deserve that.”

“They _had_ a good leader,” Orm snapped.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, my degree in political science would suggest that promoting genocide isn’t exactly the mark of successful leadership.”

“I wouldn’t call jumping from one woman’s bed straight into another the mark of a good leader either.” 

She was glad to find that Orm’s comment didn’t bother her. Arthur had explained to her about his previous relationship with Mera. It had been more of a fling than anything else, and they had ultimately gone separate ways as friends and political allies. 

Darcy had even met Mera when she had first arrived in Atlantis and the other woman seemed perfectly nice (even though Darcy had needed to curb a flurry of Little Mermaid references upon meeting her). His ego was wounded and he was lashing out but she refused to take the bait. More than anything, Orm bringing that up with the apparent intention to hurt her, made her see him for the lost little child he was. His eyes narrowed as she appraised him, and she noticed then that his irises were exactly the same shade as Atlanna’s. 

“You look so much like your mother,” she hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but his expression grew even more bitter.

“Don’t you dare speak of her,” Orm spat out, surging as far forward as the bioluminescent barrier would allow him.

Darcy heard the invisible wall humming louder at his proximity. “Dude. You _need_ to chill. She’s a wonderful person. Hell, she loves you and that's a good enough reason for me to give you a chance,” she laughed sardonically, “even though you honestly seem like kind of a dick.”

Orm glared at her through disdainful eyes but said nothing. After a long moment, he swam further back into his cell, settling on the cot that jutted out from the wall.

“I thought that she was dead for most of my life. He deprived me of her,” he stared up at the ceiling as he spoke.

Darcy made an indignant noise, “How exactly is that Arthur’s fault?”

“It was his fault that my mother was banished,” he said sharply, finally looking at her again.

“Again, how?” She shrugged. “Because if you ask me, it sounds like that was your father’s choice.”

“That he made because of Arthur.”

“That’s some serious bullshit.” Darcy was getting fed up with his obnoxious inflexibility. “Your father just as easily could have handled his emotions like an adult but instead he made the vindictive choice to execute Atlanna to the trench. Don’t buy into the propaganda you’ve been gaslit to believe, Orm. Arthur was a child. Children don’t ask to be brought into this world and they shouldn’t be held accountable for the actions of their parents.”

Orm was back to staring at the ceiling.

“As for growing up without a mom,” Darcy continued when he said nothing, “I know a little something about that myself. At least you got yours back.”

He was quiet so long that she was almost about to leave when he finally replied.

“I suppose,” he started tentatively, “I may be prone to making judgments that might not always be entirely fair.”

“Does that count an apology?”

He glared at her again, “Don’t push it.”

“Noted.” She studied him for a moment longer. “You know, I’m almost tempted to quote Casablanca right now but I think we’re not quite there yet.”

“What?” Orm was predictably confused by that.

Darcy shook her head, “Yeah, nevermind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love and good thoughts about my work situation. I DID end up changing the whole piece after all, but it’s working out well and I’m glad I followed my instincts, lol.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In lieu of an apology for the wait on this chapter, I’ll offer an explanation. The past two months have been utter chaos and completely horrible. These are just the highlights -- Buckle up.
> 
> About five weeks ago my best friend and coworker was in a terrible hit-and-run motorcycle accident (thankfully, they were able to find & arrest the driver) and after four -- soon to be five-- surgeries she has a long but promising recovery ahead of her. Since her accident, I’ve taken over all of her competitive group dances, which I’m totally happy to do, but it does mean that my workload doubled. Then three weeks ago my boyfriend tested positive for COVID. Thankfully it was an incredibly mild case (basically, a mild cold plus loss of taste & smell) but I initially tested negative. Unfortunately, I started to get some cold symptoms, so I got tested again, but then the lab lost my test. However, I also lost my taste & smell completely for about 48 hours which is a pretty damning sign even without a test result. We both feel back to normal, but now all of Illinois is locking down again under the Tier 3 Mitigation so all of my work is remote again at least until our holiday break (luckily I was able to finish teaching all of my choreography before the start of my quarantine and the mitigation). 
> 
> Literally, the election results have been the only positive thing to happen in the last couple of months. It’s been a very difficult, busy, and emotional time. I had to force myself to stop feeling guilty for not having the time or energy to write. I love all of you and I love writing this story, but understandably, I just didn’t have it in me until just this past week to sit down and finish writing the final chapter.

The smell of bacon hit her head-on as she opened the oven door to check on it. Judging that it was finally crispy enough, she slipped on one of her “hulk hands” oven mitts and pulled the tray out to cool on the side of the stovetop that she wasn’t using to cook french toast. Her dad was a strict practitioner of skillet bacon, but Darcy found it easier to use the oven so she would only have to watch one burner. She flipped the last piece of french toast out of the pan, turned off the burner, and plated up a couple of slices with a generous drizzle of syrup, and added several pieces of bacon to the side of the plate.

Darcy settled onto a barstool at the counter and pulled out her phone to call her dad. He picked up after only two rings, and the video connected to show him in the kitchen of his and Pepper’s apartment. 

“Hey, Princess!”

“Hey dad,” she started cheerfully, then narrowed her eyes at him when she caught sight of what he was eating for breakfast. “Is that a Hot Pocket?”

Her dad pushed the plate out of frame and swallowed before answering, “Maybe.”.

Darcy rolled her eyes, “You’re calling that breakfast?”

“Well, Pepper’s at that conference in Prague this week,” he shrugged, then took another bite, apparently having decided he wasn’t going to be shamed for his breakfasting choices.

“Ah, so you’ve reverted back to your man-child roots.”

“It is my natural state, after all,” he continued, mouth full. “Besides, without Pep here to cook for, the energy to make waffles seems much better spent on other things.”

“I ‘spose that’s fair.”

“So how’s it going working for a younger, more obnoxious version of me?” Tony asked, changing the subject.

“Well,” she stabbed a bite of french toast with her fork, “Bruce is definitely younger than you, but I think you’re seriously underestimating your own potential for obnoxiousness.” Darcy popped the bite into her mouth, smirking openly.

“I’m offended.”

“Need I remind you of your incident at New York Fashion Week 1998?” She pointed her fork at him accusingly. 

“Okay, I personally apologized to Tyra Banks for that, and nobody even pressed charges about the thing with the chandelier.”

“Work is good,” Darcy said, backtracking to Tony’s original question. “I’m liking being more involved with the R&D side of things.”

“You are a Stark, after all.”

“True,” she tilted her head. “And I really only see Mr. Wayne a few times a month. Between dealing with his company, his charities, and Justice League stuff he’s a pretty busy guy.”

“Exactly why I unloaded half of that shit onto other people.”

“It had nothing to do with them being more focused and qualified at those things?” Darcy asked, eyebrows high.

Tony shook his head emphatically, “Oh no, it had _everything_ to do with them being more focused and qualified at those things. I like that my money goes to charities, but I am a trainwreck when it comes to facilitating _getting_ my money to charities.”

“And here I thought you had no self-awareness,” she teased around a mouthful of bacon.

“I have plenty of self-awareness, I just strategically choose to ignore things sometimes.”

Darcy was glad that they were able to continue their Saturday morning breakfast routine, even when they weren’t living in the same city anymore. It was one of the things that made her feel still so connected to her family in New York. She and her dad continued talking until a notification popped up on Darcy’s screen.

“Ah shit, I gotta go dad. Our new couch is getting dropped off today, and I have to call downstairs to let the delivery guys up.”

“I hope Wayne is paying for it.”

“I mean, kind of,” she laughed. 

Her dad grinned, “Bye kiddo. Love you.”

“Love you too dad. Talk soon.”

Darcy hung up with her dad then called downstairs to the security desk to ask them to let the furniture guys up. They set to work bringing in her new couch and hauling away the old one while she cleaned up her breakfast dishes. The menial task got her to thinking about how different her circumstances were now. The past year had actually been a bit of a blur. 

It had started at an event in Gotham that Arthur hadn’t been able to get out of. He complained the whole time -- about his tux, about Wayne, about the guestlist. Darcy pointed out that he put up with ceremonial events in Atlantis all the time, but he reasoned that at least he didn’t have to wear dress shoes for those. But it was at this event that Darcy (after _just barely_ containing her fangirling over meeting Diana Prince) was able to strike up a conversation with Bruce Wayne about the company she worked for and her boss’ long-term intentions to expand into other areas of tech development. 

As it turned out, Wayne Enterprises was all too happy to invest and help them take on such a process. Within four months they had been able to set up an additional office and an R&D lab in Gotham. Darcy had been promoted to run things for the Gotham office, which meant moving to Gotham full time. The obvious upside being that it made her relationship with Arthur that much less long-distance, with only needing to split his time and energy between two cities instead of three.

At first, she had been nervous about the prospect of uprooting her whole life in New York and having to settle in Gotham.

_  
“Shit,” Darcy muttered, scrolling through apartment listings on her phone. Every place that looked decent in her price range was turning out to be a much further commute than she could handle._

_“What’s up, babe?”_

_“Ugh, nothing. I just hate looking for apartments.”_

_“Why are you looking for apartments when I’ve already got one?”_

_“Wait,” Darcy squinted at him, “I thought you were kidding about that the other day.”_

_“...No?” Arthur chuckled. His eyebrows slanted in amusement, “I definitely wasn’t kidding about you moving in with me.”_

_“You mean it, you want to live together?”_

_“I feel like ‘duh’ comes off too aggressive, but…”_

_Darcy tossed her phone down and leaped across the bed to kiss him which he returned in equal energy._

_“This just because you’re relieved you don’t have to look for places anymore, right?”_

_“Oh, obviously,” Darcy rolled her eyes dramatically to emphasize her sarcasm and she felt Arthur’s answering laugh rumble deep beneath his sternum._

_“Okay, just checking.”_

_Their mouths met again, but this time a bit slower and more measured as they sunk into the pillows.  
_

Moving in together had proved to be a surprisingly seamless transition. Arthur hadn’t minded making room for her things and he’d really only been using a third of his giant walk-in closet anyway. And Darcy found that now she was no longer living in the fishbowl that was Avengers Tower, she had quite a bit more privacy. She definitely missed her family, but luckily Darcy’s new position still required her to travel back to New York every few months to check in with the main office. 

The last time she had been home just so happened to coincide with a visit from Clint. So naturally, as soon as she got done with her first day of meetings, Nat and Clint dragged her and the other boys out for drinks. The next morning she woke up on Nat’s couch, face squished into the throw pillows and head pounding violently. Nat, of course, had looked perfectly rested, even though Darcy was positive that she had drunk about twice as much as anyone else. She even asked if Darcy wanted to go work out before breakfast. Darcy threw a shoe at her. Obviously, it hadn’t come anywhere close to hitting her, but the intent was enough.

Now, however, Darcy was putting the finishing touches on a project she’d had in the works for a while. Arthur was on his way back from a couple of weeks spent in Atlantis, and she was starting to get antsy waiting for him to get home like she always did when the pull got more intense and hard to ignore. Darcy had been back to visit with him three more times since her first visit and the Atlanteans seemed to be starting to warm to her. Arthur had assured her that they would, but of course, it was still gratifying to see it happen.

One of the most unexpected things about her subsequent visits was the way that her relationship had grown with Orm. He was definitely still a smug little shit sometimes, but she always checked in on him and while he tried to convince her at first that it was annoying to him, eventually he seemed to drop that pretense. Darcy figured that not only was he somewhat glad for the company and conversation, but she also wondered how long it had been since someone around him had actually tried to understand him instead of playing the sycophant.

In fact, it was something he said the last time she was there that got her thinking about her commitment to Arthur…

_  
“Back again, I see,” Orm said teasingly when she showed up outside of his cell._

_“Like a bad habit,” she shrugged, treading water in front of the window._

_“What a truly charming phrase that is.”_

_She laughed sardonically, “Well you know, us surface dwellers are full of charm.”_

_“As I’m coming to find out.”_

_“Wow,” her eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. Orm usually wasn’t one to give an inch. “Somebody’s been unpacking their baggage.”_

_He swam close enough to the window that the bioluminescent energy field lit his pale complexion and hair up in shades of blue and pink. “My mother visited recently. We talked for quite some time about...well, a lot of things actually.” He tilted his head to the side contemplatively. “She also suggested that losing her early on in my life may have given me a general fear of losing people and a defensive tendency to push people away.”_

_Darcy found herself nodding understandingly. “Jeez, if that’s what Atlanna helped you work through in one conversation, imagine what you could do with a licensed therapist and a dream journal.”_

_Orm just stared at her like she had grown a second head. It was a look she was getting used to seeing from him, but it didn’t bother her._

_“I swear, you say the strangest things sometimes.”_

_“I’ve been told.”_

_“Does it bother Arthur at all that you come to talk to me?” He asked, changing thoughts._

_“Not hardly, dude,” Darcy scoffed. “Honestly, he doesn’t dislike you half as much as you think he does.”_

_“And I bet you’re singing my praises then.”_

_“I actually am.” She crossed her arms and leveled him with a challenging stare. “I’d rather see you guys put your shit behind you and figure out that if you really want to, you can be family.”_

_Orm thought for a moment before responding, and when he did it was with a gentler tone than before. “I suppose neither you nor I have much family to speak of. We might as well try to hold on to the people we do have.”_

_“A compelling point,” she agreed.  
_

What Orm had said got her thinking. Darcy supposed she was a pretty big believer in fate, and she couldn’t discount the things that had seemed to simply fall into her lap in the last year and a half. It seemed rude to ignore, especially when fate had been so kind to her.

Darcy was scrolling through her Netflix menu when she heard keys in the door. She practically launched herself across the room, tackling Arthur just as he came through the doorway. Immediately, the ache behind her ribs eased.

“Woah there, babe.” He dropped his bag to keep them both from toppling over.

“Missed you,” Darcy kissed him on his scratchy cheek, and Arthur laughed as he set her down and picked his bag back up. 

“Really? ‘Cuz I don’t think you made that clear.”

“Ha,” she deadpanned. 

“That the new couch?” he asked, tilting his chin toward the new furniture. 

Darcy nodded and he vaulted over the back of the couch to sit on it and she rolled her eyes at the move. Living with supers never changed. 

“Shit,” he said. “This thing is comfortable. You like it?”

“Yeah, I like it,” She laughed at the way he was squishing the back cushions experimentally, testing their give. “But I’ve already lost the remote in the cushions like three times today. I think it’s somewhere under you. Mind checking?”

Arthur searched around for a moment, digging in between the cushions. “I don’t see it, babe. Oh shit, what’s this?” He looked up, holding the black titanium band between his thumb and forefinger quizzically, and that’s when he noticed that Darcy was kneeling in front of him. “Wait…”

Darcy took a deep breath to steady her nerves, “I love you Arthur, and I can’t imagine my life without you. We’ve already gotten through so much together and I want you by my side for everything else.” The more she talked, the easier it got. “The Universe thought we were right for each other and I think we should probably trust her. So what do you think?”

Arthur’s face split into a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Hell yeah.”

The weight that had been sitting in Darcy’s stomach all day lifted immediately, and her answering smile matched his, “Yeah?”

“Come here.”

Darcy got up and went to sit on his lap. She took the ring from him and managed to slip it onto his left hand before he closed the distance between them. The kiss was deep and sure and when they came up for air there wasn’t a single ounce of doubt left in her over the truth of his answer. She had just enough time to catch her breath before Arthur was pressing her back into the couch and she let herself be pulled under again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Writing and introducing people to new ships and rare pairs is literally one of my favorite things ever! Thank you for all of your support <3
> 
> I'm on tumblr and Insta as dftbalicia11 :)


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